


How Not to Quarantine

by Elora_Lane



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Bellarke, Buzzed sex, COVID-19, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feelings Realization, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Making Up, Marijuana, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sharing a Bed, Some Fluff, Some angst, Sweet Bellamy Blake, and they were quarantined!, edibles usage, feeeeeeeeeeelings because its bellarke, i think, somewhat enemies to lovers, theres a plot, they're in quarantine, yup I'm trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23205457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elora_Lane/pseuds/Elora_Lane
Summary: When Clarke's mom falls ill with Coronavirus, Clarke and the remaining students in her dorm are all quarantined.However, her roommate Octavia isn't home- and her annoying brother just had to come and look for her.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 179
Kudos: 573





	1. Climb in My Window

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nakeycatstakebaths](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakeycatstakebaths/gifts).



> First off: 
> 
> The title rings true! This is NOT what you want to do during quarantine and the COVID-19 Crisis. This is meant for entertainment only. Fanfic isn't real life. 
> 
> Take anything I write about college and quarantine situations with a grain of salt. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy. and just know, its meant to be light-hearted. I have no intention of making light of a situation or upsetting anyone. So if this is offensive to you, move along, please. 
> 
> Also, this is gifted to Nakeycatstakebaths, because she was kind enough to make a moodboard to help inspire me!
> 
> Big thanks to Taylor-morley and star_sky_earth for your help betaing, you are awesome, and I adore you!

When the city shut down, and the self-isolation started Clarke refused to panic. She had stockpiled enough stuff in her dorm room early on. It was always best to be prepared, after all. She had bought an electric tea kettle a while ago, plenty of water, Cuppa Soups, protein bars, shakes that didn’t require refrigeration and many non-perishable snacks. She even purchased an extra blanket, just in case power was lost, and heat went out. 

What she hadn’t counted on, was a bit of a heatwave, and a full-on quarantine. Right before Spring Break, Clarke was told she’d have to stay in the dorms. Her parents had tested positive for Covid-19, and although her father was asymptomatic, her Mom had a moderate case. Considering the fact that she taught at the university, all students left on campus had to be quarantined. 

Clarke knew it was safe this way, but as she heard loud music from next door, and voices yelling, “Chug! Chug!” she couldn’t help but feel a bit upset. Fourteen days of listening to this, without so much as a drink herself were going to be torture. 

She was at a higher risk since she was Abby’s daughter. For some reason though, no one seemed to believe her when she said she hadn’t been in contact with her mother in over two weeks. So, there she was, sitting on her bed sketching at three in the afternoon, while Monty and Jasper texted her from next door. None of the “possibly infected” were to leave their rooms without precautions and an escort (that meant even to the bathrooms, yes). Needless to say, Clarke hadn’t been out of the dorm in days. 

It sucked. 

At least Jasper and Monty had one another during this trying time (and by the sound of it, it seemed their girlfriends were with them). Clarke was alone though, especially since her boyfriend of two months suddenly wanted to “go on a break”, and Octavia had been visiting with her secret boyfriend- which was really just Bellamy’s roommate, Lincoln. Her texts about how she had to hide from Bellamy were hilarious. Until she got another one. 

> **_Octavia:_ ** _Bellamy’s freaking out. He heard about the quarantine... I don’t know why, but he thinks you have something to do with_ _it?_ _He thinks I’m with you... he said he’s_ _gonna_ _throttle you if I die from Coronavirus._
> 
> **_Clarke:_ ** _Tell him I didn’t even touch anyone or anything that’s infected- Oh, wait. You're_ _hiding,_ _aren’t you??? Is he texting you?_
> 
> **_Octavia:_ ** _He said he’s coming to the dorm. They won’t let him in, right? I’ll just tell him I’m fine... Aren’t the infected at the hospital, anyway?_
> 
> **_Clarke:_ ** _I’m not helping you lie, Octavia. But yes, they are at the hospital. We’re here waiting to see if symptoms arise._
> 
> **_Octavia:_ ** _I’m scared you’re_ _gonna_ _get sick._
> 
> **_Clarke:_ ** _I’ll be fine. Don’t panic. Also, tell Bellamy where you are, so he doesn’t panic and break into our dorm._
> 
> **_Octavia:_ ** _He wouldn’t, would he?_

Rolling her eyes, Clarke didn’t see the point of answering that. Just as she began to sketch again, there was a knock on the door, “Ms. Griffin? It’s your turn for personal cares.” 

Ugh, she hated the way they said that. But she appreciated the privacy (even if there was a guy or girl in a hazmat suit right outside the bathroom when she was done). She rarely ever had the dorm bathroom to herself, and she wasn’t going to complain about it now. 

What was even better was having her room to herself. She could take her time and not have to worry about Octavia or Lincoln barging in while she dressed. What she hadn’t expected after her shower, was someone climbing in her window. 

“Nice legs,” the low voice made her jump and cover herself. 

“Damn it, Bellamy!” Clarke yelled, pulling her towel tighter around herself, “Ever hear of knocking or texting to let me know you’re coming over?” 

“I shouldn’t have had to... I texted Octavia, but as far as I can tell, she’s not here?” he asked, and as Clarke’s gaze swept over him, he jumped out of the sill, and onto the floor, looking around for O, instead of at her. 

“How’d you even climb up the wall?” she asked, and when he turned to her she scolded him, “Ah, ah! Nope, turn around fully while I get dressed.” 

“Fine,” he said, holding out his arms in mock surrender, “Sorry to have surprised you, I just- I was worried about O. and she said she was here.” 

“I know, but she’s not, sorry,” she said, as she threw her shorts and an oversized shirt on, not bothering with a bra, “but you know, now that you’re here, you can’t leave.” 

“What?” Bellamy asked, turning just his head- his eyes were wide, “I can just climb down the way I came- no one has to know.” 

There was an intense moment, as the pair seemed to come to an impasse. Clarke knew he was about to run, and he knew she was most definitely not going to let him. Just as he moved, Clarke jumped onto the bed under the window, and shielded, “no, you can’t. This is an actual quarantine Bellamy if you leave you could get someone sick. And besides, it’s illegal.” 

“What, are you gonna do- tell on me, Clarke?” he asked, his eyes flashing dangerously, “besides, I haven’t really been exposed, right? I’ve just been in here, and not even that close to you, _now move._ ” 

“Bellamy, you can’t leave!” she said, trying to keep him from the window. As fast as she could, Clarke closed it, and used her body to keep him from reopening it. 

“You’re gonna make me fight dirty, aren’t you?” he asked, his curls falling over mischievous eyes, and a stupid (sexy) smirk playing on his lips. As he retracted one hand, Clarke tried to calculate his next move- but before she could respond, Bellamy’s hand fell to her side and he was tickling her. With a shocked laugh, Clarke let go of her hold on the sides of the window, but had enough where with all to hold onto Bellamy as she fell forward taking him with her onto the bed. 

“Okay, are you going to let me go?” Bellamy asked, his voice sounding rather playful, as he squirmed under her, “Usually I buy a girl dinner before I end up in bed with her.” 

“Shut up,” Clarke groaned as she got up, and an idea crossed her mind. She wasn’t infected- but Bellamy didn’t know that, so before she could talk herself out of it, she moved over him and kissed him full on the lips. 

It was sloppy and weird, and he froze under her like a statue. However, as she pulled away Bellamy’s hand twisted into her semi-wet locks and held her close. Taking the lead, he adjusted his hold to give her a deep and thorough kiss. Caught up in the moment, Clarke felt herself respond- her stomach tightening and warmth pooling in her belly. But she couldn’t do this- kiss like it was real. Not when she was just trying to make him stay. Carefully, she smoothed her hands up his chest and pulled away. When he opened his eyes, Bellamy wore a look of confusion. Then, a knock sounded on the door and Clarke felt a surge of guilt wash over her. 

“Shit,” Bellamy murmured, his hand carding through his hair as his head fell back on the bed. The moment he let out a breath, her dorm room opened. 

“Who is this?” Someone wearing protective gear asked while eying Bellamy closely, “Sorry to barge in, Ms. Griffin, we were doing rounds and heard noises.” 

“It’s okay,” Clarke said, “Bellamy is my roommate’s brother, he was just worried about her.” 

_“Was he bothering you?”_ the man asked, his eyebrows raised above his mask. It was then that Clarke realized how this looked, Bellamy below her, hair messy, both of their lips swollen from kissing and his knee perched between her thighs. 

_God, had she been... grinding on him?_

_How embarrassing._

“He’s not bothering me,” she said, her mind faltering over an excuse to explain why they were making out, “we- uh, we’re together.” 

Corona Carl seemed satisfied enough, “Fine. No one in or out. You- give me your ID, I’ll have to register you. If you leave, its jail time and a fine, whichever a judge decides. Do you understand? It’s essential that you stay in quarantine.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Bellamy said, pulling out his wallet. As he did so he grumbled, “just my fuckin’ luck.” 


	2. A Light Snark Never Hurt...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to those who helped beta and edit, your help was essential, and you are so appreciated!

The first night with Bellamy around was weird, to say the least. He was angry about being stuck not just with Clarke, but anywhere. The only words exchanged were about phone chargers, food, and a small fight about a book. Feeling bad for him, Clarke finally gave in and offered to share her stuff. 

“This tastes like cardboard,” Bellamy groaned, drinking the last of a protein shake. 

“You don’t have to drink it,” Clarke reminded him as she laid on her bed and opened her book. She was really getting sick of his huffing and complaining. As Bellamy picked a book to read- in Spanish no less, Clarke rolled her eyes, “yes, please do read my book.” 

“Sorry,” Bellamy almost growled, “Please, lady who accosted me, and is holding me hostage, may I read your copy of _‘_ _Romancero_ _Gitano’?_

“I did not accost you!” she scoffed, “besides, do you even know Spanish?” She asked, leaving out the fact that she didn’t know the language herself- she had bought the book for a semester abroad that got canceled. 

“What? I can’t speak more than one language?” Bellamy asked, sitting on Octavia’s bed and digging into the book. After flipping through the pages, he settled in and perfectly recited, _“_ _La_ _luna_ _vino a la_ _fragua_ _, con_ _su_ _polisón_ _de_ _nardos_ _.”_

_So_ _what, if him speaking Spanish made her flush and was kind of a turn on._

He was still annoying- _he was still Bellamy, after all._

Peeking over the book, Bellamy looked at Clarke, “Do _you_ know what that means?” he asked, when she shook her head, he laughed, “I didn’t think so. So, is it okay if I read the book?” 

Settling back into her pillows, Clarke couldn’t help herself, “Fine... but are you sure you wanna do that on the same bed your sister has sex in?” 

The scowl on Bellamy’s face was priceless, as he practically rolled off the bed and landed on the floor with a thud. 

The only interaction Clarke and Bellamy had before this was a few awkward run-ins at parties, and him flirting with her in front of her boyfriend. At the time, Clarke knew he was just being an ass- they didn’t exactly get along. But Finn had been so jealous about it, he eventually asked If they could “take a break” because he couldn’t handle being away on spring break and worrying about her cheating on him. 

If there was one thing Clarke wasn’t, it was a cheater. The mere insinuation of it had been offense enough for her to delete Finn’s number and block him on social media. If he wanted to be a paranoid and controlling ass, fine. He’d just have to find someone else to play his mind games with. 

Bellamy, on the other hand, had a whole different set of “games” he played. For a while, Clarke knew him as “that hot guy” that hooked up with girls at parties. She didn’t even know who he was, and it seemed she was always right there when he walked out behind a girl, adjusting his clothing or using his fingers to tame his messy post-sex hair. 

Of course, the day she did meet him was the one exception- but Clarke had assumed he was up to no good. He had come out of a room, following Octavia and giving her a hug. The two seemed close, but Clarke had seen him with Roma Bragg earlier, and she didn’t appreciate him messing with her friend. Of course, he was wearing a little smile, as he made a beeline to the drinks. 

“Hey! Having a good time?” he asked, raising his voice over the music and grabbing a red solo cup. As he put some ice in it he continued, “I don’t think we’ve officially met.” 

“I’m Clarke- Sorry, aren’t you gonna wash your hands?” Clarke asked, giving him a disgusted look. She liked girls, too. But c’mon that ice was _communal_ , “who knows where those have been.” 

“Where exactly do you think they’ve been?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. 

“ _Oh c’mon!_ I just saw you coming out of that room with my roommate! Earlier, you were practically fucking Roma against the wall. I know part of college is being a player, but _seriously_ , if you’re gonna do that, wash your fucking hands.” 

At that, he made a show of scooping even more ice into his cup- making sure to touch as much of what was left in the bag as he could, “Not that it’s your business, but I was giving _my sister_ a hundred bucks so that she could go out and have a good time with her snotty roommate.” 

“I’m sorry,” Clarke said, immediately ashamed, “I-” 

“Whatever. Maybe don’t insult people in their own home,” he snapped, not even giving her a chance to explain, as he took his cup of mostly ice and walked off. It was later she’d learned that his name was Bellamy- and he didn’t drop a grudge so easily. 

* * *

The next day went by slowly. This time, Bellamy spent the day calling people. He was irritated by the fact that Octavia was avoiding him, and he gave up after calling her five times. After that, he called into work and kept getting calls from his friends, Miller and Murphy. At some point, someone called to tell him they’d bring stuff by, whatever that meant. It was a relief when he finally left to shower. 

Now that she had silence, she had to admit having Bellamy here sucked less than being entirely alone. As she thought about the fact that he wasn’t entirely annoying, she began to think of ways to extend an olive branch to him. Maybe she could ask if he wanted to watch Netflix or something- unless he’d misinterpret that? 

Clarke was snapped out of her thoughts by the bedroom door opening, and Bellamy coming in with just a towel around his waist. Averting her gaze, she focused on her sketch. 

“I talked to Pamela Pandemic,” Bellamy said after a few minutes of shuffling. He sounded annoyed, as if he was only speaking because he absolutely had to, “I’m stuck here- and with you, since you said that we’re “together”. Which by the way, what the fuck, Clarke?” 

Rolling her eyes, Clarke turned to find him leaning against the closet in just pajama pants, his arms folded over his muscular chest as he stared her down, “I couldn’t let you leave- and I didn’t want them to think you were some intruder.” 

“I get that, whatever. But you aren’t sick, are you?” he asked, his gaze only getting more intense, “I know you and I don’t exactly get along. But the way O talks about you- you’d never actually expose someone to a terrible illness, just because they weren’t listening to you.” 

Somehow, it sounded like he was accusing her of just that. 

“Fine, you’re right. I’m not sick,” Clarke said, “but just because I’m not, doesn’t mean quarantining and social distancing isn’t important.” 

“You have got a funny definition of social distancing, Griffin,” he laughed, turning away from her and putting the matching shirt on, “Fuck, just what I thought, Jasper’s shirt doesn’t fit.” 

At that Clarke looked up to find Bellamy stretching the pajama top out- and not only was it too small, it was also too short. Clarke couldn’t help but laugh at it, “I think O has some big shirts in her dresser,” Clarke said before she thought better of it. 

“Thanks,” Bellamy said before pulling the shirt off and opening the drawer. As Clarke remembered who the shirts belonged to, she felt her stomach drop. And then it met her ears, _“What the?”_

Trying to play it cool, Clarke turned to see Bellamy surveying a shirt, “Bellamy?” 

“This is so weird- I gave Lincoln this shirt last year for Christmas,” he said, putting it aside, looking farther into the drawer, “damn it... Why has O been stealing Lincoln’s shit?” he asked, turning around to give Clarke a puzzled look. Clarke sighed in relief, _good._ Maybe he’d just think she was stealing, “this is so weird, I mean, if she needed clothes, she coulda just asked...” 

Pulling out another shirt, he paused as a small box of condoms fell out with it. Wincing, Clarke had to look away- she couldn’t bear to see this, there was no way he wasn’t going to figure it out now. 

“What the hell?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke could practically hear the gears turning in his head. Suddenly, there were clothes flying out of the drawer- followed by deodorant, shaving cream, all brands that Lincoln probably had at home, too, “Clarke?” 

_“What?”_ she asked, Clarke had zero interest in getting in the middle of any Blake sibling drama. 

“Why is Lincoln’s stuff in this drawer, and why is there a box of condoms in there?” Bellamy asked, slamming the drawer shut and opening another. This time, Octavia’s clothes were falling on the floor. 

“Bellamy, stop!” Clarke yelled, getting up and trailing after the mess he was creating, “this is a total invasion of Octavia’s privacy.” 

_“You knew?”_ he seethed. Looking up, Clarke noticed Bellamy had something in his hands. With a wounded look on his face, he handed her a couple of photo strips from a cd launch party they had all gone to a few months ago. The first set was all four of them, the second set- taken later that night, was mostly O and Lincoln making out or being otherwise cute. 

“I was at that party, you told me O got sick and Lincoln drove her home!” he accused as if it were some terrible betrayal. 

“I-” she stammered; this wasn’t fair... “I never wanted to be in the middle, I swear. I told her to tell you.” 

‘’Right, so you just sat back as my roommate took advantage of my sister?” he asked. 

_“Oh my god, what?”_ Clarke said putting the stuff away, “look, I’m sorry you found out like this. But Octavia is an adult, she can make her own choices.” 

At that, Bellamy sat on the floor. It seemed like he was overloaded with information, not quite sure how to deal with what was happening. A minute later, he spoke up again. 

_“Octavia,”_ he spat, “ is my _baby sister._ She’s nineteen. Lincoln is twenty-six. That’s like-” 

“It’s like two adults having a relationship,” Clarke said, sliding down and sitting next to him, “look, I tried to tell Octavia to tell you, but she was scared.” 

“Damn right, they both should be!” Bellamy yelled, jumping up and balling his hands into fists, “I’m going to kick the shit out of him-” 

“Bellamy, stop!” Clarke said, gently setting her hand on his wrist, “you can’t do anything about this now- and Octavia is safe at your place with him. So just, sit back down, relax.” 

Staring down at her for a moment, he seemed to weigh his options and decide that she was right. Once he was again sitting next to her he continued to work his jaw and clench his fists. Clarke couldn’t help but let out a sigh as she shook her head, “Bellamy, you’re her big brother. She needs your support- not your anger. Anyway, I seem to remember that Roma is our age, right? And you dated her.” 

“That’s different.” 

“How?” Clarke laughed, ready to hear his half-assed excuse. 

“I don’t know. It just is- and I’m only twenty-four, not twenty-six,” he said, leaning his head back. 

“So, two years difference makes you a saint?” Clarke laughed, nudging Bellamy with her shoulder and counting it as a win when he smirked for half a second, “look, I get it. You’re mad because she’s your sister, and you’re protective, I get it. But Lincoln _is not_ a bad guy.” 

“Fine, whatever,” Bellamy said, sighing deeply, “but I’m not wearing his stuff.” 

“That’s fine,” she said, sneaking a look at him. Clarke couldn’t help but admire the bronze and freckled expanse of skin that was exposed. If she was being truthful, she would say she liked it better this way. 


	3. Just a Little High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here is the second update in two days... because, I'm laid off, and have been writing a lot. 
> 
> Thanks again, Nakeycats, I appreciate the Beta'ing. Heaven knows I need it! haha ;)

> **Clarke:** Bellamy knows. I’m sorry. 
> 
> **Octavia:** Wait... what? 
> 
> **Clarke:** Bellamy knows about you and Lincoln. He’s stuck here for another eleven days, but he knows. 
> 
> **Octavia:** Shit. How did he find out? 
> 
> **Clarke:** That’s between you and him. I am NOT getting in the middle of it. But I will say, you should have told him a while ago.
> 
> **Clarke:** I think he’s more hurt than anything else. 

Octavia’s response after that text was mere radio silence. 

Typical. 

Last night had been rough. It had been hard to watch Bellamy spiral- he went from being angry with Clarke to being open with her, and then shut down in a matter of minutes. That night, Clarke could have sworn she saw the outline of him wiping away a tear or two in the dark. 

She didn’t know how siblings worked- after all, Clarke was an only child. But with how close O and Bellamy were, she knew there was a whole different level of trust between them. And somehow, in a matter of minutes, that trust had been broken. 

Clarke couldn’t help but feel guilty, although she wasn’t entirely sure why. Bellamy wasn’t _her_ brother- she didn’t owe him anything. But seeing him hurt, made her feel that, somehow, she had failed him too. The next day, she watched him as he sat on the floor reading the same page over and over again- still shirtless since his original change of clothing was still dirty. 

“Do you uh, want me to wash your outfit?” Clarke offered, as she gathered her laundry together. 

“Sure, thanks,” Bellamy said, and then suddenly his eyes brightened up, “are you walking there? Can I go with?” 

“Yeah, sure,” she said, finding it odd that Bellamy would want to spend any time with her- especially considering last night. 

“One sec,” he said, typing something into his phone. After a moment, he smiled, “alrighty, let’s go. I just have to give Jasper his shirt back.” 

“Cool,” Clarke said, picking up the laundry basket and soap. Much to her surprise, Bellamy swooped in and grabbed the soap, and then the door for her. 

“M’lady,” he said, smiling. 

“Why are you being weird?” she asked, eyes narrowed- something seemed off here. 

“I think you mean ‘thank you’?” he said, eyebrows arched as if he was teaching a child a lesson in manners. At that, Clarke just shook her head as she walked off, giving a slight nod to the county health worker who was sitting at the end of the hall. As a result of the contamination pool being so small at the school, most of the workers had left, and there were just one or two per shift now- more so to make sure the students didn’t try to sneak anyone in or out. Clarke felt bad for her, she had to be bored, here all on her own. 

It wasn’t until she had the clothes in the washer that she noticed Bellamy wasn’t there with the soap. Just as she was about to go look for him, he ran in the room panting. In one hand he had the soap, in another, he had a balled-up t-shirt. Carefully he opened it and set down a small paper bag. 

“What’s that?” Clarke asked, grabbing the soap and nodding to the bag. 

“Oh, Jasper found a shirt that fits,” he said, clearly being evasive as he picked the bag back up, “Do you have any extra quarters?” he asked, looking at the vending machine. Rolling her eyes, Clarke handed him her laundry quarters. 

“Don’t go crazy, I’ll have to dry the load twice. The dryers suck here.” 

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Bellamy said, putting quarters in the vending machine, “O does her laundry at my place because of that- and I assume yours too?” 

It was true, Clarke had definitely sent loads with O before, “um maybe our stuff got mixed up.” 

“Nope, Octavia didn’t go to Arkadia High, and she definitely doesn’t own a D cup,” he explained matter-of-factly as if it wasn’t embarrassing for him to have seen her underwear. When he spoke next it sounded like he was chewing something, “she gets lazy, and I have to fold the last loads... You know, come to think of it, she was probably screwing Lincoln while I did your laundry, _huh._ ” 

“Damn it, Bellamy!” Clarke snapped, slamming down the lid to the washer, “look, I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you- and I’m sorry it’s this huge betrayal. But please, don’t talk about this non-stop for the next eleven days- because if you do, I am going to lose my god damn mind!” 

Immediately after her outburst, Clarke felt incredibly embarrassed, but it was the truth. She wasn’t going to spend almost two weeks dealing with backhanded comments and a brooding guy in her room. 

“I’m sorry, I know putting you in the middle is shitty, but- ugh, it’s just frustrating,” he said, before shaking his head, “Anyway, enough of that. We have more important things- tell me, Skittles or Starbursts? 

“Skittles,” Clarke said, “and Dr. Pepper, not Pepsi or Coke. Doritos, not Cheetos- unless it's Flaming, then Cheetos all the way.” 

For a moment Bellamy just stared at her before a large smile formed, “I didn’t realize the Protein Shake Princess liked junk food.” 

“Only when I’m stoned or drunk,” she quipped, before thinking better of it. If Bellamy didn’t like Lincoln because he was older, he was definitely going to hate Clarke for occasionally getting stoned, right? “Anyway, see you back in the room. Save four dollars' worth of quarters, okay?” 

“Gotcha,” was all he said, as he made another selection. 

It took Bellamy about fifteen minutes to come back, which Clarke thought was a little weird. When he got back, he had far more snacks than she expected, and a wide grin on his face, “have you talked to Bridget out there? She is a delight!” 

“Yeah, I saw she likes Sudoku,” Clarke said, noticing that Bellamy was acting a little weird. Dumping the food onto Clarke’s bed, he quickly followed- laying down like he owned the thing. 

“God, this comforter is comfy," he laughed, snuggling into her bedding, “Hey, isn’t that funny? A comfy comforter.” 

Eyes narrowing, Clarke couldn’t believe what she was seeing, “are you... _stoned?_ ” 

“Shh!” he said, putting his index finger over his lips, “O can’t know. That would be bad- I have to be a good influence.” 

“Well, she’s not here, Bellamy,” Clarke assured him, “What did you take?” 

“Jasper gave me a couple of chocolates. I have one for you, too. I can’t be the only one having fun.” 

Well, he had a point there. Clarke was going crazy with boredom, and Bellamy was already stoned... so this could be fun, “Okay, fine,” she said, smiling, “I’ll take it.” 

“Nope, you gotta ask nicely,” he said, sitting up with a devilish grin forming on his face, “and you gotta watch something with me- like, I don’t know, a movie or something. I can’t read like this.” 

“Fine, please may I have your drugs. And I will watch whatever you want.” 

“Perfect,” he said, pulling the chocolate out of the pile of food. Unwrapping it, he moved toward her and put it up to her lips, “alright, here you go.” 

The way he was watching her made Clarke’s stomach flutter. She could tell he was looking at her lips- since his eyes settled into a sort of trance. As she opened her mouth, Clarke couldn’t help but wonder if this was the slightest bit erotic for him. It sure as hell felt like it was for her. Without touching her, Bellamy placed the chocolate on her tongue and smiled, “there you go,” he whispered, before getting off the bed, “okay, where is your laptop?” 

As the edible set in, Clarke was having a harder time focusing. The pair didn’t really talk too much, they just watched episodes of Futurama and found themselves laughing at the same parts. More often than she ought to have, Clarke found herself admiring Bellamy's profile as her fingers itched to sketch him. She couldn't help but smile at the way his lips quirked when he thought something was mildly funny, and her stomach couldn't help but flutter every time he jostled her knee to get her attention- like somehow talking would ruin their little cease-fire. Once the munchies set in, they went for the same snacks- luckily Bellamy was being nice to her and giving her the pick of the pile. 

After a while, Clarke began to feel sleepy. As another episode ended, she settled down to sleep and told Bellamy he could stay- since the floor had hurt his back the last two days. 

“No- I shouldn’t,” he said, getting out of the bed, “I’ll go get the clothes.” 

When had he put them in the dryer? 

Clarke’s eyes were barely able to open by the time Bellamy got back with the clothes. As he turned off her computer and began to move it out of the way, Clarke grabbed his wrist, “Just sleep in my bed, please,” she said, trying her best to look at him, “I mean it- the floor will hurt your back, you’ve been stiff all day, favoring your one hip over the other.” 

“How could you tell?” 

“I just can,” she said, “that’s why you got the edibles, right?” 

Clarke could tell his high was wearing off because his jaw clenching was back. Nodding, Bellamy looked down at her hand, “I can’t sleep in your bed,” he said gruffly, “you’re one of my sister’s best friends. If she found out, she’d be pissed.” 

At that Clarke couldn’t help but laugh, “and I’d tell her she was being hypocritical,” pulling on his arm, she continued, “c’mon, Bellamy I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t sincere.” 

“Fine,” he said, “but I sleep without a shirt, is that okay?” 

“That’s the preference, actually,” Clarke said, too stoned to care about her words- or about the little chuckle coming out of Bellamy’s throat, “now, c’mon.” 

“You know,” Bellamy said, settling in her bed behind her, “it’s not even eight yet.” 

“Really?” Clarke asked, yawning, “My mom always used to say that going to bed early made for more restful sleep.” 

“She used to?” 

“Uh, yeah, we haven’t talked in a while... and now, she’s sick,” Clarke said, chewing her lip. She hadn’t told anyone that her mom had the virus, she hadn’t even heard anything about her condition except for what was on the news, “I’ve been so mad at her for stupid reasons, and now I don’t even know how she is. The news said her case was moderate- but I don’t know.” 

“Wait your mom has the virus?”

“Yeah, that’s why the dorm is locked down, she’s a professor here. Some of her students were on a trip with her when she started having symptoms.” 

“Were you on the trip?” Bellamy asked. Even though her back was to him, Clarke could feel his eyes looking right through her. 

“No, I dropped her class,” she said, folding in on herself a little- stupid pot, making her teary-eyed, “that’s why we weren’t talking because I switched my major. From Pre-Med to Art History. And now it’s so dumb because she could die, and that’s the only reason we haven’t talked... and now I feel like I can’t reach out.” 

_“Oh, Clarke,”_ Bellamy almost groaned, and Clarke felt her heart flutter a little. Did he feel sorry for her? It wasn’t the kind of pity that made her feel guilty or bad, it was some genuine feeling of sympathy that made her heart beat a little harder, made her feel... understood. Before she even realized what was happening, strong arms were wrapping around her, turning her around and Clarke found herself almost cradled by him. 

Maybe it was the pot, maybe it was the fact that she’d never really been held like this- that she’d never felt so small and safe before. But for the first time in front of anyone, Clarke broke down- and drifted into a slumber with Bellamy catching her tears as they fell of their own accord. 


	4. You Didn't Say Where...

They didn’t talk about it. 

They didn’t talk about how Clarke fell asleep with her tears wetting Bellamy’s skin, they didn’t discuss the way he gently murmured that everything would be okay, that she could get through this, as he traced a gentle line up and down her spine with his surprisingly tender fingers. 

And they _definitely_ _didn’t_ talk about how Clarke woke up with her leg slung over Bellamy’s hip, her arm draped over his torso, and her head tucked under his chin. What surprised her most was that he was awake. Texting with one hand as the other brushed lightly over her hair. It felt nice to be held in such an innocent, yet sweet way. So, feigning sleep, Clarke allowed it to continue until there was a knock on the door- and a voice saying that they were to be tested. 

It was a little odd that they were given masks for the first time. And as Clarke watched the nurse swab Bellamy’s mouth and take his blood, something connected. 

“Someone’s having symptoms, right? Someone here in the building?” Clarke asked before she could think of a better way to rephrase it. And then suddenly there was a swab in her mouth- and shortly thereafter, a gentle poke in her arm. 

“Yes, but we have reason to believe it was smoke inhalation. I’m sure you can smell it from next door,” Bridget said from the doorway, “Either way, Franco Hall is in full quarantine. If you need food or anything, put your mask on and call for one of us, we will get delivery. No use of community areas until everyone’s test results come back.” 

Before she could ask about showers, they were both being handed a pack of body wipes and a bottle of waterless soap to use, “I’m sorry,” Bridget said, looking more annoyed than anything. 

“It’s fine,” Clarke said. 

“Yeah,” Bellamy agreed, staring at the bottle in his hand, “better safe than sorry, right?” 

After the workers left, Clarke stood up, removed her mask and went to her closet. Opening it, she blocked herself off from Bellamy’s line of sight, “I’m gonna clean up. I guess, don’t look?” 

“Of course,” Bellamy murmured, turning around. After a few moments he spoke up again, “So, it was Jasper and Maya choking on bong hits,” he said, sounding entertained, “he just texted me.” 

“I kinda figured,” Clarke laughed before she started washing. Once she finished up, she put on a clean sweatshirt and shorts and returned to her bed, “your turn, big guy.” 

_“Big guy?”_ Bellamy asked, looking a bit smug, “you know, it’s too bad we washed my clothes, now I have no excuse to be shirtless.” 

Cheeks growing warm, Clarke just laughed- shit, she’d said something about that yesterday, hadn’t she? As his head popped out from behind the door, he smirked at her, “I know you’re very sad about that.” 

_Was he flirting with her?_

“Do you wanna watch something?” she asked, changing the subject as she peeked over her laptop to see a bronze arm stretch past the closet door. Walking out from behind it, Clarke watched as Bellamy finished putting his shirt on and walked back to the bed. Laying down, he put one hand behind his head and ran his finger down Clarke’s forearm. 

“What?” she asked, her stomach fluttering a little as she looked back to see him smiling at her. 

“Pick what you want,” he said, eyes curious as he smiled up at her. Staring down at him, Clarke felt her heart skip a beat- what was he talking about? After pausing too long, however, Bellamy reached over her and grabbed the computer himself, “fine, if you’re indecisive I’ll choose.” 

Letting out a rush of air, Clarke shook her head. Of course, that’s what he meant. 

Finding other things to do throughout the day wasn’t always easy. For a couple of hours, Clarke and Bellamy watched some old sci-fi show that she became invested in, much to her own surprise. Then Clarke worked ahead on a paper for class, while Bellamy worked out some extra energy. She had to admit the sight of him shirtless and a little sweaty wasn’t the worst thing in the world and she found herself sneaking looks more than she probably ought to have. 

Later, they read some books, as Clarke laid down and Bellamy sat at the end of the bed. At some point, Clarke must have gotten sleepy- because she found herself waking up after dark curled up with Bellamy behind her, and his arm around her waist. Cuddling into her pillows, Clarke felt Bellamy’s arm tighten around her just a little, but it was enough to make her feel just a little safer- just a little more conflicted about this person who was suddenly very much in her life. 

Clarke’s train of thought was soon interrupted by the sound of something tapping sharply against the window. Startled, she turned to find Bellamy still sound asleep. 

“Bellamy!” she said in a hushed tone, “Bellamy wake up!” 

“Nah, baby,” he murmured, presumably still asleep, “I don’t have to work today.” 

As he moved to roll over, Clarke tried to grab his shoulder and shake him. Instead, he caught her hand, kissed it and held it in his own, settling against his torso once he'd rolled over. Apparently, he liked being the little spoon, too. 

“This is ridiculous,” Clarke mumbled, stuck with her hand in his, and her body draped over his back. It did make her wonder though... was he confused? Did he, in a half-sleep, think she was someone else? 

_Shit,_ _did he have a girlfriend?_

Or did he _want_ to call her baby? Clarke couldn’t deny that she wouldn’t mind him actually calling her that- just that thought made her body hum with warmth. If this was how she felt four days in, what the hell was going to happen over the next ten days? 

As her thoughts began to spiral Bellamy’s cellphone went off- causing him to stir immediately, “you have to be kidding?” she laughed, as he turned and blinked up at her. 

“Sorry,” he said letting her hand go, “I’m a heavy sleeper.” 

“Yeah, I figured that one out,” Clarke laughed, “there’s someone at the window.” 

In seconds, Bellamy was out of bed and opening the window, “Miller!” he whisper-yelled, “Miller! I’m up! Sorry, man!” 

Clarke watched as Bellamy looked at someone below, “Shit,” he said, “just a second!” 

“I’ll be right back,” Bellamy said to Clarke as he put his leg on the windowsill and started to climb out. 

“Bellamy, no!” Clarke said, turning on the light, “I don’t want you to get in trouble.” 

Looking around the room, something seemed to snap into place, “Miller! Just a minute!” As quickly as he could, Bellamy pulled Octavia’s sheets off her bed, “I need one more... Clarke, please?” 

Without a word, Clarke pulled off one of her sheets, too. 

“Thanks,” he said, tying it to the others. Thirty seconds later, he was pulling something up and through the window, assuring Miller that he would Venmo him soon. 

“Bellamy, what the hell is this?” Clarke asked, watching as he opened the bag and showed her its contents. Much to her shock it was a bag full of booze and food, “we can’t use that- it could be contaminated!” 

Rolling his eyes, Bellamy just shook his head, “well the bottom half is my clothes- the booze well, you’re welcome to have some if want.” 

Standing up, he moved over to the closet, “Is it cool if I keep it in here?” 

“We can’t keep that,” Clarke said, “I’m serious!” 

“Look Clarke, you can go ahead and be the most boring dorm mom ever, or you can actually have some fun for the next ten days- it's up to you,” he said, “besides, I asked Miller for Lysol wipes, I’ll clean off the packaging myself, I promise.” 

Working her lip, Clarke peered into the bag and smiled, “did I see some wine spritzers in there, by chance?” 

* * *

“What time is it?” Clarke asked from her spot next to the window, as she finished the last spritzer from Bellamy’s stash. She was starting to get antsy. Having been indoors for about seven days. She could only watch Bellamy work out so many times before she was going to lose her mind. At this point, though, he was completely clothed- and considering Clarke was pretty buzzed (and her imagination had become rather vivid of late) it was probably a good thing. 

“Hmmm, Nine O’clock,” he said looking at the clock on the computer. They had long since abandoned watching movies in favor of listening to music and drinking a bit. Grabbing the bottle of Tito’s Vodka, Bellamy walked over to Clarke, “truth or dare?” 

“Oh, you’re kidding right?” she said in disbelief. 

“Nope, you wanna skip a question, you drink- deal?” 

“I guess it’s the most exciting thing happening here!” she laughed, “okay, me first- truth.” 

“Um... are you dating anyone?” he asked, not quite looking at her. 

With eyes narrowed, Clarke shook her head, “no, my ex and I broke up before he left for break. Truth or dare.” 

“Easy. Dare,” Bellamy said, his eyes glinting. 

“I dare you to... take your shirt off,” she said with a blush, hiding behind her can of alcohol. With a smirk, Bellamy complied and then threw the shirt at her. 

“Your turn,” he said, “truth or dare?” 

Clarke knew they were headed into dangerous territory here, after all, they been flirting more and more- and Bellamy’s hands had started to wander just a little here and there as if he was testing the boundaries. But Clarke knew it probably wasn’t the best idea to hook up with her roommate’s brother- even if O had been lying to him for months. 

“Dare,” she said, feeling brave. 

“I dare you...” Bellamy said, his voice lingering on the word as his face grew a little pink, “to tell me if you’d ever go on a date with me.” 

“You can’t dare me to say a truth!” Clarke laughed, shoving him, “that’s not how this works.” 

“Fine,” he conceded, his lip twitching as he leaned closer to her. Propped up on his elbow, his head was nearly touching her shoulder, “then... I dare you to kiss me.” 

Fucking with him, Clarke leaned forward and grabbed the vodka. As she took a good drink, Bellamy’s face fell. Keeping her gaze on him, she swallowed the drink and leaned forward; stopping for just a moment to allow her lips to hover near his before she moved quickly and kissed him on the cheek. 

“That’s not fair,” he said, his face slowly softening into a bright smile that made Clarke’s heart jump. 

“You didn’t say _where_ to kiss you,” Clarke teased, raising her finger and bopping him on the nose, “Alright then, your turn, truth or dare?” 


	5. Of S'mores and Seduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I hope you all are hanging in there! 
> 
> Please note, there is smut in this chapter.

“So, let me get this,” Bellamy said as he took a swig of Tito’s, and handed the bottle to Clarke- they had abandoned the game of truth or dare in favor of “truth and drink” which just turned into them sharing their life experiences. Moments ago, Bellamy had been telling Clarke about the superior excellence of a perfect snack, “You’ve never had s’mores?” 

“Nope,” she confirmed, and when Bellamy laughed at her, she pretended to be offended, giving him a good-natured shove. Forgetting his shirt was still off, Clarke was caught off guard by his soft skin and the firm muscle it covered. Just as he seemed to notice her rogue touch, Clarke pushed him away, “What? I’ve never been camping! Who has s’mores if they aren’t camping?” 

“I do!” Bellamy announced, jumping up he grabbed the bag Miller sent up, “Turn around, Princess! _Unless you don’t want to..._ ” 

Drunkenly defiant, Clarke set her chin in her hand and did no such thing. He didn’t seem too aware as she watched Bellamy pull off his shorts and change into the clothes Miller had put in the bag. If she were sober, she wouldn’t have gawked at the way his back muscles rippled with each movement, or how fine his ass was. 

But alas, she was drunk, and he was hot. 

So, gawk she did. 

After he put a black t-shirt and some basketball shorts on, he turned around with a satisfied smile and raised his hands, “I’ve got the contraband, so let’s go!” 

“What?” Clarke asked, shaken from her daze. 

“We’re gonna go to the kitchen and make s’mores!” 

“Bellamy!” Clarke almost scolded him- and then she remembered that the virus threat to them was, in reality, fairly low. Clarke would like to say that if she were sober, she wouldn’t have done this. But the truth is, she wasn’t every truly sober around Bellamy- there was something about him, about his personality that had her permanently altered, as if he livened her up. Made her feel adventurous- excited. With a smile, she grabbed the chocolate bars and gave in, “I really could go for something sweet now.” 

With a little chuckle, he gestured toward the door and turned off the light. As slowly as possible, Bellamy opened the door. The hall was dark, except for the exit signs, “My memory is fuzzy,” Bellamy whispered as his free hand found hers, and caused a spark of warmth to travel up Clarke’s body, “where is the communal kitchen?” 

At that Clarke turned to him, “I- you’ve been here before?” 

“What did you think, I went to community college?” Bellamy laughed, going quiet before they passed a snoozing Bridget. Taking the proper turn, he nodded to a door, “I think it’s over here?” 

“Wait, you lived here?” Clarke pressed, as Bellamy opened the proper door to the kitchen, and found the stove. 

“Mhmm, I lived here for a couple of years on scholarship, before I moved off-site. Can you grab skewers? There's some right in that drawer,” he said, pointing to the spot. 

“What was your major?” 

“Romance languages,” Bellamy said with a suggestive smirk, earning a laugh from Clarke while he pushed some marshmallows onto the skewers, “now get over here and roast some marshmallows with me.” 

“This is silly,” Clarke murmured, as she took the skewer from Bellamy, and put it over the controlled flame. Although it was completely unnecessary, he moved behind her, and held his hands over hers, “this isn’t golf, Bellamy. I can hold it on my own.” 

With a little chuckle, he backed away, “damn, remind me not to flirt with you again.” 

_Oh, so that was what he was doing?_ At just the thought of it, Clarke felt her cheeks burn and her stomach flip. Why was he being so nice? Was it because he found out about her mom and felt sorry for her? Or was he attracted to her, and couldn’t help but admit it now that he was inebriated? As Clarke got lost in a spiral of thoughts, the marshmallows bloomed and were consumed by flame. 

“Shit! Bellamy, help!” 

In no time, he was right there, turning the stove off, and blowing on the marshmallows (which were, indeed, on fire), “ah, they taste better crispy, good job.” 

“Don’t try to make me feel better,” she said, embarrassed at her mistake. 

“I’m not, seriously!” At that, Bellamy pulled off one layer of marshmallow and ate the burnt part. As Clarke stared at the carefree movement, he caught the strings of marshmallow, before they fell too far down, and licked it off his finger. With a smirk, he set the stripped marshmallow on one of the stacks of chocolate and graham cracker, “You want the burnt part on the s’more? Or not?” 

“Uh, maybe I should try it first... so if I don’t like it, it doesn’t defile the entire dish?” She meant it innocently enough, but as Bellamy stared at her, she couldn’t help but feel like she had said the perfect thing... instead of offering Clarke the skewer, Bellamy used his finger to scoop up the burnt layer on the untouched marshmallow and raised his brows at her as if in a challenge. 

Swallowing thickly, Clarke opened her mouth and let him feed it to her. As their eyes met, he let out a little laugh before setting his finger on her tongue. Clarke couldn’t help but watch his jaw tick, and his eyes darken while she wrapped her lips around his finger. As she let the warm, soft substance invade her senses, she let out a little moan. 

Catching herself, she froze. For just a moment they were both too stunned to move. 

And then, remembering that his fingers were literally _in her mouth_ , Clarke put her hands over his, and slowly pushed it away. 

“God, that is good,” she said, chewing the bite. As she swallowed, Clarke looked up at Bellamy, whose gaze seemed locked on her lips, “what? Do I have something on my mouth?” 

Silently, he shook his head and turned back to the other ingredients. 

“We should get back before we get caught,” he said, making her s’more. If Clarke wasn’t mistaken, Bellamy’s voice seemed a little deeper, rougher. 

With a nod, Clarke took the little sandwich that Bellamy made and followed him to her room. With the light still out, she turned on the bedside lamp. 

“Okay, take this,” Bellamy said, handing Clarke his s’more, and pulling Octavia’s blanket off her bed. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Making a blanket fort. Since we can’t go outside, we have to have a tent inside,” he explained with a smile as he moved to Clarke’s bed and threw her blanket and pillows on the floor, “Okay, sit on the blanket.” 

As Clarke did so, Bellamy arranged the pillows around her, and then went to work stuffing the large blanket between Clarke’s mattress and box spring, “Okay, I can put it at a slope and use your dresser to connect it.” 

Clarke sat placidly on the floor, still holding the s’mores as Bellamy continued to work around her. In just a minute or so, she found herself inside a cozy pillow fort as Bellamy lifted the flap-door and joined her. In one hand he had a battery-powered lantern, and in the other the bottle of Tito’s. Plopping down across from Clarke, he smiled, “so, do you like your first-ever pillow fort and s’mores?” 

“Well, I haven’t tried it, because I didn’t want to be rude. The guest has to take the first bite,” Clarke said, handing him his own. With a smile, he made a show of biting into it- and only then, did Clarke do the same. There were layers of sweet, almost-melted chocolate, and stretchy marshmallow, the mixture of which made her eyes roll back, and elicited another little moan, “that’s really good!” she laughed, covering her mouth, to catch anything that might fall out and embarrass her. 

Clarke couldn’t help but smile as she enjoyed the treat. Once she was down to just a bite, she looked up to find Bellamy staring at her, his steady gaze making her body grow warm. 

_“What?”_ she asked, unable to handle how awkward it felt- being watched by him was a thrill but also it was _a lot,_ truthfully. 

“Nothing,” Bellamy said, as he got up and shuffled toward her. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, and swiped his thumb over the corner of her lip, “you just have a little something-” 

Heart hammering in her chest, Clarke watched as Bellamy bit his lip. He was clearly debating something as his tongue came out to wet his lips and he dragged his thumb along her bottom lip. Eyes locking with hers, he moved even closer, “you, uh-” 

“Uh, huh,” she murmured, as he came closer and made her wait for him to finally kiss her. Clarke tried to breathe deep, slow down the hammering in her chest, but all she tasted was him- the scent of his skin seemed to be wafting toward her, the feel of his thumb against her lips had her body humming with warmth, she wanted to taste it again- _taste him again._ Just as the thought occurred to her, his thumb slipped between her lips and met her tongue. As his jaw opened a little, Clarke let herself lick off the chocolate and marshmallow. This time though, she gave it a good suck, letting him know she liked it too. 

_“Fuck, Clarke,”_ he groaned, as he slowly pulled his thumb out of her mouth and wiped it on his shorts. Emboldened, she pulled him back by the hem of his shirt, but Bellamy dodged her glances. It seemed as if he was ashamed or embarrassed by what just happened. Searching for eye contact, Clarke put her hand on his cheek and turned him toward her, “hey,” she said, finally catching his eye, “it’s okay, _we’re_ _okay._ ” 

It was as if something snapped at that. Before she knew it, he was kissing her- his mouth consuming her. His tongue wrestled hers, as one of his hands tangled in her hair and the other pulled her forward onto his lap. In no time, Clarke was grinding down on Bellamy’s hardening cock, while he gasped and groaned into her mouth. 

Fuck, she loved those noises. 

Taking his face in her hands, continued to move against him and watched as his eyes closed and his jaw dropped. 

“Damn it,” he said, his cheek resting on her shoulder, “you feel so good, Clarke.” 

“Well,” she said, pulling her shirt off, “if you like it, then why don’t we keep going?” 

At that, Bellamy’s head lifted, and his eyes zeroed in on her, “are you sure? You’re not too drunk?” 

“No, I’m really not,” she said, and although she was a bit buzzed, she knew that she wanted to do this, “I’m on the pill and I’m clean.” 

“Okay,” he said, nodding and suddenly eager, “yeah, alright.” 

With a laugh, Clarke leaned down to kiss him again, their lips twisting together as she pulled his shirt up his torso. She could feel him shivering under her fingers as she made slow work of the garment. Without a word, he let her pull it off, his eyes shining as the shirt was tossed behind them. When Clarke unfastened her bra and pulled it off, his gaze darkened, and he let out a little growl that made her shiver from head to toe. 

Threading her fingers through his hair, she enjoyed the feel of Bellamy’s lips on hers. His hands made their way into her shorts and his mouth traveled down the column of her neck, toying with the sensitive nerves there. In no time, his large hands were burning against her bare ass, pushing her to grind on him harder and harder until she got so caught up in pleasure, she was seeing stars. As they moved together, she felt warm pressure growing and growing inside her. Overwhelmed with sensation, she pulled on Bellamy’s curls, until the heat and pleasure peaked and erupted within her. 

Shaking from her orgasm, Clarke pulled back to find him smirking at her, “I- uh, I’m sorry,” she said, embarrassed that she came so easily. 

“Nothing to apologize for, that was really hot,” he said while he kissed her and hooked his fingers into her shorts, “now, can we take these off?” 

With a nod, Clarke stood up as high as she could without destroying the blanket fort and Bellamy helped her take her shorts off. He then made quick work of his own, his hand wrapping around his dick, and pumping it a couple of times before he gently tugged on Clarke’s leg, “you okay?” he asked, as she moved to straddle him once again. With her hands on his shoulders, she nodded, before starting to lower herself onto his cock. 

“Wait,” he murmured, his hand holding her hip at bay. Closing her eyes, Clarke felt him run himself along her over-sensitive clit before his cock finally pressed against her entrance. The movement was electric, causing a pang of deep-seated arousal that hit her like a wave. Before she registered her movements, she was pushing down on him, accepting every inch of what he had to offer. 

Bellamy watched her with an almost-worshipful expression on his face. Full of him, Clarke closed her eyes and breathed deep. God, it felt good to be filled- to be stretched and held. 

“Clarke?” Bellamy’s voice was wrecked, little more than a whisper, “are you with me?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled. The last thing she needed was for him to find out that this was her first time having sex. Would he pull out of her if she told him now (like Finn had pulled out of their relationship when she told him)?Even worse, would he laugh at her for having been a virgin until she was 19? or think less of her for sleeping with him without so much as a date? Shaking her head, Clarke tried to banish the thought, “It’s just a lot- but it’s good, really good,” she said, knowing that would probably be a compliment- and maybe then, he’d take the lead? 

“Okay,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close before he laid her down on the pillows, all the while staying connected to her, “better?” 

Nodding, Clarke wrapped her legs around his waist and urged him to move. Taking the hint, he thrust into her. For a while, they alternated between kissing and nuzzling into each other’s necks, until their breaths grew labored. As Clarke felt another orgasm grow, Bellamy moved so that her legs were draped over his arms. He moved faster and faster, until Clarke lost herself in searing-hot pleasure. With her eyes closed, she gripped his back and made noises she’d never heard before. 

Past her own moans, she could hear Bellamy murmuring about how sexy she was, how she was beautiful, and he couldn’t hold on much longer. Truth be told she couldn’t either. When she opened her eyes, he smiled and kissed her hard on the mouth, his body bearing down on hers so that she could feel every inch of him against her. He was like a fire, consuming her, devouring her. As something pressed against her clit, she fell apart, her body almost convulsing with pleasure. Just moments later, she felt Bellamy finish inside her- his warmth flowing freely as he let out a long breath. After his release, pulled her into his arms, and turned them so that she was half on top of him. 

With her arms around him, Clarke drifted off to sleep easily. And for the first time, she felt weightless and satisfied, as Bellamy snored lightly beneath her. 


	6. The Weight of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a good amount of smut in this chapter, as our heroes stave off their boredom. Anyway, enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think!

Clarke woke with a pounding in her head, and arms around her waist. She could feel a blanket over her, and Bellamy beneath her- his chest rising and falling even as his breath tickled her shoulder. Snuggling into his chest, she wished that she could bottle this moment up and save it forever- because it was likely that after the quarantine Bellamy would move on to another girl and forget all about her. 

And Clarke was fine with that, really. 

But for now, she could enjoy it while it lasted, right? 

All too soon, Bellamy’s hand carded through her hair. Clarke heard him swallow as if he was preparing to speak. 

“Clarke?” he said, his voice gruff with sleep, “I know you’re awake.” 

Giving up, she turned to him with a smile and propped her chin on her hand, “Good morning,” she offered, shivering slightly as he ran his hands along her ribs, her waist and then her hips. 

“Good morning,” he said with a smile before he pulled her up and kissed her softly, languidly as if this was a perfectly normal morning-after thing to do. Clarke couldn’t help but respond to him, and in no time, he was turning so that she was lying under him, his hand bracing her head as he lowered her onto the pillow. Pulling away, he set his fingers under her chin, as his thumb played with her lower lip. 

“I had fun last night,” he said, smiling lightly. 

“Me too,” Clarke melted back into their rhythm with ease. If anyone had asked her a month ago, she would have said that seeing Bellamy like this- so carefree, tender and sweet- was impossible. She never would have expected him to be like this, “I honestly can’t believe that happened,” she laughed, watching as he ducked his head and blushed, “but I’m glad it did. It was really good.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, his eyes seeking her out under those long lashes. 

“Yes,” Clarke confirmed. Wasn’t this the same guy who had girls lining up to fuck him? How in the world was he so doubtful? “thank you.” 

At that, Bellamy smiled so wide, his eyes squinted, “Why are you thanking _me?_ ” he asked, “I should be thanking you- you've been a _very_ generous host.” 

Swatting him on the shoulder, Clarke just laughed and covered her face with her hands, “Oh, god,” she mumbled, her hands moving to rub her temples, “ugh, I have a terrible hangover.” 

“Lightweight,” Bellamy teased, rolling off of her and handing her the bottle of Vodka, “don’t drink too much, just enough to take the edge off.” 

“Okay, Doc,” Clarke grumbled but complied. 

“So,” Bellamy said, searching the blanket fort for his clothing. He spoke as he got dressed, “So, how was it... for your first time?” 

“What?” Clarke asked, her heart skipping a beat, and her cheeks going red, _how the hell did he know?_ Octavia didn’t even know. 

“The s’mores... the blanket fort,” he said, gesturing to all of it. 

“Oh yeah, it was great,” she said, smiling. Relieved that her phone started buzzing from across the room before Bellamy could question her further. 

“I’ll grab it,” he offered, and while he was out, Clarke rushed to find her shirt and shorts. As wonderful as the morning had been, she was eager to not be naked in a blanket fort. Coming out of the fort, she accepted her phone from Bellamy who began to clean things up- even going so far as to make O’s bed. 

While he did that, Clarke returned her father’s call. When all she got was his voicemail, she texted him. 

“Everything ok?” Bellamy asked as Clarke shook her head in frustration. 

“Yeah, my dad called, and now he’s not answering.” 

“You think it’s about your mom?” he asked, walking over with his hands on his hips. As Bellamy stood over her Clarke shrugged, “Honestly, I don’t know. Probably.” 

“Okay,” he said, “Well if it was serious, I’m sure he would have called back already.” 

“Yeah,” Clarke said, a tear falling from her eye of its own volition. Much to her surprise, Bellamy wiped the tear before she could, “I’m okay, Bellamy.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he said, pulling her into a hug anyway. Letting out a ragged breath, Clarke couldn’t help but be thankful that he was there. 

Thankfully, Bellamy had been right. Her father was calling to tell her that her mother was good- for the most part. She’d have to be at home on extra oxygen for a while, and she might be forced into retirement, but at least she was alive. 

“Whatcha up to?” Bellamy asked as he dried his post-shower hair. Taking a deep breath, Clarke shook her head- as per usual, the man was shirtless, and she was having a difficult time thinking straight after last night. As the memory of his hands, his lips, his body eclipsed her senses, she had to focus to keep her breathing steady. 

“Um, just about to watch something,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes on the screen and selecting a show. Settling into her pillow Clarke tried not to track Bellamy’s movements in her periphery. 

“Can I join you?” he asked, not climbing onto the bed without her permission. Keeping her eyes on the show, Clarke nodded. When Bellamy slid behind her and draped his arm around her waist she tried not to tense up, “this okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“I just want to make sure I’m respecting your boundaries,” he said, sounding perfectly serious, “sometimes when friends sleep together, it changes the dynamic... I don’t want to assume anything.” 

“Hmm,” Clarke said, settling back into his embrace. As the show started to play, she covered his hand with hers and led it under her shirt. While his large hand explored her sensitive skin, she let out a chuckle, “I wasn’t aware we were friends.” 

“Oh, I think we’re very good friends now,” Bellamy laughed against her neck, his warm breath sending a shock of arousal to her core. Slowly, his fingers dragged over the edge of her bra- as if testing the boundaries. As his other hand moved to grasp her hip, Clarke let out a little moan, _“God, you’re so sensitive.”_

That was probably because she wasn’t exactly used to someone touching her the way that Bellamy did. It wasn’t bad though- no, it was very, very good. Keeping her eyes on the screen, Clarke nudged the hand on her hip down toward her shorts. When his fingers slid beneath the waistband, Bellamy pressed himself against her ass- his already hard cock making her breath catch. 

As the intro to the show ended, Clarke’s head spun- was this a problem? A buzzed hook up was one thing. But right now, it was four in the afternoon, they were stone-cold sober, and this was clearly a choice... right? 

“If you want me to stop, I will,” Bellamy said, as his right hand settled over her underwear. 

“Please don’t,” Clarke whispered, moving her ass against his cock. With a hiss, Bellamy answered by thrusting back. With his head on her shoulder, he pressed a couple of fingers against her clit and continued to move until they were both breathing heavily. 

_“Bellamy,”_ she whined. What he was doing felt good, but it wasn’t enough. Just as she was about to ask him for more, two of his fingers slid into her. Eyes fluttering, Clarke began to grind against his palm, _“Oh...”_

“That’s right, Clarke. Just take what you need,” he said, mouthing at her neck. Just as she was starting to get the hang of riding his right hand, Bellamy’s other hand replaced the cup of her bra. As he shoved his fingers even further, he gave her tit a gentle squeeze, making her moan. Between his skillful hands and the sensation of his entire body against hers, Clarke lost track of the show and eventually gave up watching it altogether. 

Moving onto her back, she pulled him into a kiss- smiling against his lips as he moved his fingers faster and faster and rubbed her clit even harder. Closing her eyes, she gulped as an unfamiliar, yet overwhelming hunger gave over to raw pleasure. In just moments, she was coming on his hand. 

Catching her breath, Clarke opened her eyes to see Bellamy’s gaze wandering. Following it, she watched as his fingers drew lazy circles over her clit. Coming back up, he skimmed her stomach- making her oversensitive body twitch. Pulling his hand away, Clarke watched as Bellamy put his fingers in his mouth and raised his eyebrows. 

“What?” he asked, after licking her juices away, “your ex never tasted you?” 

“No.” 

“Hold on- you mean he never went down on you?” Bellamy asked, seemingly astonished. 

Shaking her head, Clarke wasn’t sure what to say. Finn had never offered to do that, despite Clarke being more than happy to blow him. He just played with her clit a couple of times- and even then, he gave up when he couldn’t make her come. When Clarke asked him to eat her out, he made her feel like some sort of degenerate for even suggesting it. 

“Do guys actually do that?” 

“I don’t know about other guys,” Bellamy said, “but I do. Do you want me to?” 

“You don’t have to. I know its gross,” Clarke said, wishing he would drop the subject entirely. 

“Do _you_ think it’s gross?” he asked, his hand sinking between her legs. As he continued to caress her, Clarke felt herself getting worked up again. 

“I- I don’t. But I know my ex thought it was disgusting,” Clarke admitted, squirming in Bellamy’s arms. 

“I’m not your ex, Clarke- and I fucking love how you taste,” he said, surprising her with a heated kiss. As his tongue wrestled hers, Clarke could taste the arousal he’d sucked off earlier, and couldn’t help but start to push him down by his shoulders. Wasting no time, they worked together to slip her shorts and underwear off the rest of the way. Breathing steadily, she watched him settle between her legs and get to work. 

Licking into her, he let out a relieved groan. His hands framed her hips as he ate her out with abandon. Alternating between fast and slow, Bellamy played with, sucked on and swirled his tongue over her sensitive clit. Trembling against his face, Clarke watched him rut into the mattress, his body matching her own rhythm. When their eyes locked, one hand moved to hold her hips down, while he used the other to explore her slit. 

Slicking up his fingers, he pressed two into her again. This time, his strokes were deep and slow. Kissing her thigh, he got his tongue on her again, making her whimper, _“c’mon, baby_ _,_ _”_ he pleaded, licking into her, and sealing his lips over her clit. 

With her hands in his hair and her legs over his shoulders, Clarke whimpered and seized, as he drew another orgasm from her. This time it washed over her and made her laugh as she felt nothing but pure bliss. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed between her second orgasm and when Bellamy settled with his body over hers. 

“You good?” he asked, kissing her neck. 

“Yeah- that was good,” she said, her hand moving into his shorts and her fingers curling around his hard cock. Letting out a breath, Bellamy’s hips moved. As Clarke tried her best to hold him right, she suddenly felt out of her depth. Fumbling, she made a mental note to get him to let her experiment with his dick later. However, she knew something they both could enjoy, so she used her toes to pull his shorts down and tried to urge his hips toward her. 

“Clarke,” he said, stilling his hips just before her entrance, “you don’t have to. I didn’t expect-” 

“Just fuck me,” she said, surprising herself with the confidence that flowed from her lips. As his eyes bugged in surprise, she figured she’d give him the choice, “you know, if you want to?” 

“Uh, yeah!” he said, surprising Clarke with his enthusiasm. Kissing her, he slipped into her with blissful ease. Wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, Clarke held him close as he fucked into her. 

When his rhythm began to falter Clarke rolled them over and leaned forward, letting the new angle overwhelm her- as his hands did the same to her body. Chasing his high to completion, he turned her again, holding her close as he whispered how beautiful she was, how good it had been and that he couldn’t get enough of her. Maybe it was foolish on her part, but Clarke enjoyed the way his body seemed to swallow hers, making her feel safe, satisfied, seen. 


	7. An Ocean Too Vast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The reality of it was, no matter how enjoyable, an ocean was still an ocean. And Clarke was starting to drown in his."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy! Sorry, it has been so long! I had an unfortunate scenario happen in my home... my daughter broke my laptop charger... So I had to get a new one. Then I had to work through some depression and get the will/inspiration to write back. 
> 
> As always, thank you to Nakeycatstakebathss for betaing, and to both her and Burninghoneyatdusk, for cheering me on in regard to this fic (and life). You both are awesome!

Clarke had a long given up trying to count the days that were left for her and Bellamy to be “stuck” together. In fact, it seemed they weren’t stuck at all. Their fights were now light banter, their disagreements flirty debates that led to intense make outs and even better sex. If she were honest with herself, there had always been a part of Clarke that thought she’d regret sleeping with Bellamy (if she ever slept with him, that is), and that part of her was gladly mistaken. 

She had no idea if he was always like this with women... or maybe he was just so bored, he’d decided to see how many times he could get her to come in a week. There were moments though, that had Clarke thinking... maybe it wasn’t _just sex_ for him... Maybe he _liked_ her. Maybe the way he traced lines over her bare back after sex meant something more than “he's just fidgety” which is what she had told herself the first couple times he did that. 

But no, Clarke couldn’t think like that. Because that thinking would make her clingy, maybe even desperate. And she didn’t want to be like that. The truth of the matter was that this was a hookup, right? Bellamy absolutely had the freedom to never call her after the quarantine lifted- and based on the stories she had heard about him, he probably wouldn’t. 

For now, however, Clarke had resigned herself to a friends with benefits type of arrangement. And she couldn’t say she was regretting that. 

“Are you sure this guy is safe, Clarke?” her father asked when she called him that afternoon. 

“Yeah, dad,” she said turning away from Bellamy who was hanging out by the window, “Bellamy is a good person, we get along fine.” 

“Are you dating him?” 

_“No, no, no,”_ she said, panicking a little and turning toward the wall, “he’s just my roommate’s brother, he was worried about her and got stuck here, it’s fine.” 

“Well, you know things happen when you're cooped up for a long time, just be safe-” 

“Oh my god, Dad, _stop!_ ” she seethed, her gaze shifting to Bellamy who had his eyebrows raised and his arms crossed, “I don’t need _that talk_ from you. I’m fine, its fine, everything is fine. Can I talk to mom?” 

The talk with her mom was a bit more stilted. It was heartbreaking, listening as her mom struggled for breath. When Clarke said her goodbyes, she tried not to cry. She’d get better- she had to, right? 

“Is it okay if I call O while you nap?” Bellamy asked as Clarke slipped under the blankets, “She’s been trying to text me. I considered what you said... and I don’t want her to worry.” 

What Clarke had said earlier that day- she had paused while she and Bellamy were tangled up in one another, lazily making out, to check her phone. On accident, she grabbed Bellamy’s and noticed all the notifications from O. There were calls, texts, snaps, even Facebook messages. Even though Bellamy told her not to worry, she said he would probably feel better after talking to her, and that Octavia was probably worried about him getting sick, too. 

They made a deal, she’d call her parents and talk to them if he called Octavia and talked things out... She may have also promised him some sort of sexy reward, but that was neither here nor there. 

“That sounds good,” Clarke said, smiling as Bellamy walked over and kissed her. Choosing to ignore the implications and confusing feelings his simple show of affection caused, she let herself relax into it. They sure were doing a whole lot of unnecessary cuddling and kissing that didn’t lead to sex. And then there was the actual sex, which seemed to keep happening- and seemed to get better each time. And yet, neither of them talked about it. 

Which reminded her, “Bell, wake me up later if you want that reward.” 

“Will do,” he said smiling against her lips as he led her to lay on the bed. It took Clarke a moment to realize what was happening- he was tucking her in. So, what if that made her chest ache a bit. 

“Get some sleep, babe.” 

Before Clarke could respond, Bellamy was on his phone, presumably dialing out. 

Clarke tried her best not to listen to the conversation, and well she was very tired- after all, it seemed that she and Bellamy had found an effective way to pass time, and it could be a bit exhausting. When Clarke woke, she was surprised to find herself alone in bed, and Bellamy staring out the window while nursing a bottle of whiskey. It was dark, but the moon was bright enough to illuminate his bronze skin, downturned lips, and red-rimmed eyes- which were likely sore from crying. 

“Hey?” she ventured, uncertain about whether he wanted to be seen by her now. There was no privacy between them, and certainly, that was bound to get to him, “hey are you okay?” 

Bellamy regarded her with a slight frown, but nodded, before taking another drink. 

“Is it O?” she asked, scared of the answer... what if she got sick? They had heard all about how the city was now shut down, too, “is she okay? Or is this about Lincoln?” 

In complete silence, Bellamy shook his head without even looking at Clarke. 

“You don’t have to talk to me,” she said, feeling out of her depth, “but I’m here if you want to.” 

Peeling the label off the bottle, Bellamy looked back at the moon, “My mom died five years ago today,” he said, his voice raw, “and I forgot.” 

_“Bellamy,”_ Clarke whispered, her heart seizing at his words, “you shouldn’t feel guilty about that, it happens. I’m sure plenty of people-” 

“Octavia was driving,” he said, cutting her off, “she had just got her learner’s permit, and I was at my girlfriend’s house when it happened. O was lucky- she came out with just a broken arm. I didn’t see any of the messages for hours... I never got to say goodbye.” 

Dumbfounded, Clarke just watched him as he struggled through tears. Her own throat and eyes were burning the way they did before she cried. She had no idea that he had gone through that, that Octavia had to bear that burden, too. 

“Octavia still thinks I hate her for it.” 

“I- I’m sure she doesn’t think that... and anyone can see that you love your sister.” 

“I hope so,” he said, lifting his eyes to hers, “today, when she couldn’t get ahold of me, she had a panic attack. A bad one. And I- I just spent hours on the phone remembering just how hurt and angry she can be.” 

And then with a little laugh, he added, “You know, she told me that if I hate her so much, I should move to a new city, let her live her own life.” 

Clarke sighed as Bellamy lifted the bottle to his lips. Without overthinking it, she moved forward to kiss him on the lips. Taken aback, he slowly opened his lips to her. As they kissed, Clarke could taste salty tears. She knew it was probably a mixture of his and hers. 

“Bellamy listen to me,” she said, lifting the whiskey out of his hands and setting it on the windowsill. Cradling his face in her hands, she refused to let him look away, “your sister loves you. She’s told me plenty of times that she can’t imagine life without you. Now is just a confusing time for everyone. She’s an adult though, and she’s not alone. _She’ll be okay._ ” 

“She’s my baby sister,” he said, tears starting again, _“and... I’m never going to be able to fix her.”_

Clarke ran her fingers through Bellamy’s curls in a soothing gesture, “people aren’t for fixing, Bellamy...” she whispered, as his forehead fell against hers, “they are for loving. Just be patient with Octavia, she’ll come around and see how special you are.” 

Time seemingly stood still, as Bellamy’s breathing evened out. Eventually, he pulled away and wiped Clarke’s tears away before he took care of his own. 

“C’mon, let’s go to bed,” she said, pulling him along with her. When they laid down face-to-face, she prompted him to turn around. 

“What?” he asked, confused. 

“you’re the little spoon.” Clarke explained, when he gave her a doubtful look, “just do it, please?” 

“Fine,” Bellamy agreed. As Clarke wrapped her arms around him, he joined their fingers together and held her hand. As her thumb swiped over his warm skin, he let out a sigh, “okay, you win, this is nice.” 

“Right?” Clarke laughed, planting a kiss on his shoulder before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. 

The next day was filled with various tasks. Clarke and Bellamy had come up with a routine of sorts: in the morning, they ate whatever breakfast was delivered. Bellamy did his work out while Clarke worked on her schoolwork (and stared at him). Then they would clean the room, do laundry, etc. 

Then, lunch was delivered. Followed by showers. After that, the pair would read, sketch, maybe watch a show until dinner arrived. Of course, there were plenty of talks and spontaneous make-outs that made their way into the schedule. 

Clarke couldn’t lie, she was getting used to having him around. It seemed odd to her, how someone she could hardly stand just weeks ago was fast becoming the person who knew her best. He was the first person she wanted to see when she woke up in the morning, and the only one she wanted with her when she went to bed at night. 

Truth be told, her feelings were starting to get the better of her. It was getting harder and harder to say this was casual, that it was nothing but a hookup. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Bellamy said after Clarke got back from her shower. She was surprised to see him dressed in something other than the usual boxers that he wore to bed. No, this time he had a burgundy Henley and dark wash jeans. He also smelled amazing. If Clarke didn’t know better, she’d say he was dressed for a date. 

“I’ll let you get dressed,” he said, before grabbing a plastic bag, “meet me by the stairs in half an hour.” 

“Where are you going?”? 

“ _Relax,_ I’m not leaving the premises. I was thinking we could get some air tonight, so, I’m putting something together.” 

“With permission, right?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. With that, Bellamy just winked at her. 

“Make sure to wear a jacket,” he said, kissing her on the cheek and leaving. 

There was something incredibly domestic about all of it, Clarke thought to herself, as she sat on the blanket that Bellamy had laid down for her and watched him cook hot dogs on the little grill, “So who’d you have to bribe to let us out... I mean, Bridget seemed way to happy about letting us do this.” 

“It’s just the roof, Clarke,” he said, smiling shyly, “and I’ll have you know, Bridget adores me.” 

“Well, how could she not?” Clarke couldn’t help herself, even she adored Bellamy at this point. And as he turned around smiled at her, she felt her stomach flutter. 

“ _I don’t know..._ ” Bellamy pondered, in a teasing tone before handing her a plate of food, and settling next to her, “It’s hard to tell how people feel sometimes.” 

Ducking her head, she tried to pretend he could have been talking about anyone... but she had to admit that this- what they had- was definitely going somewhere, becoming more than she intended it to be. 

Hell, she hadn’t intended it to be anything at all. 

Taking a bite of her food, Clarke merely blushed and nodded, all the while Bellamy’s gaze stayed on her. 

“So, when is our curfew?” Clarke asked, resting her head on Bellamy’s shoulder, as her second hard seltzer began to hit her, “I don’t wanna turn into a pumpkin.” 

At that Bellamy merely laughed and shook his head. 

“What?” Clarke asked, feigning offense. 

“It’s nothing,” he laughed. 

“No, tell me!” she pressed, lightly punching him. 

“Cinderella doesn’t turn into a pumpkin. She just loses her pretty dress.” 

“Are you... correcting my fairytale references?” she snapped playfully. 

“Well, I am right, aren’t I?” he asked, his lips quirking up, “plus... I like the second version better... I mean, sans rags...” 

“So, in your version, I would just lose my dress?” she asked, growing warm as he nodded. 

“and I’d be there to save you,” he said, making them both laugh. 

It was so silly, nothing more than a joke, right? And yet, as Clarke looked from her meal to the man who had prepared it, her appetite was no longer for food- and she couldn’t lie, she liked his version of the story better, too. 

As Bellamy chatted away about something, Clarke set her food aside and cut him off with a kiss. In no time, his hands were gripping her waist, and she was pulling him down over her. As their lips wrestled one another, she found herself trying to grind against him. When his lips traveled to her neck, she reached for his belt and shivered when his hand caught hers, and he let out a little growl. 

“Clarke, what are you-” 

“Bellamy,” she said, her voice breathy, _“C’mon.”_

“Here?” he asked, seemingly surprised, “on a cold roof... in _public?_ ” 

“Why not?” she asked, biting her lip as she ran her hand over his hardening cock. As he gave her a heated look, she unfastened the belt buckle and slid her hand against his warm skin. Running her fingers over him, she couldn’t help feeling a bit proud of herself. _She_ did this to him- _she_ made him rut against her, his eyes filled with desire, “looks like you already want to.” 

Working his jaw, Bellamy’s lips bloomed into a gentle smile before he bumped his nose against hers. With a light laugh, he pressed his lips to hers, his breath stuttering as Clarke used her fingers to explore his length. 

“Damn it,” he nearly growled as he rocked against her hand, “you drive me crazy.” 

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment,” Clarke said cheekily, moaning as he surprised her with a gentle nip on the ear. In no time, his hands were dragging up her dress, moving her panties aside, and sighing in relief as he pushed himself into her. 

Clarke let out a moan as Bellamy moved gently, his rhythm staying steady as he stared at her, “What?” she asked, suddenly feeling a bit insecure. He always did this, stared at her when they fucked, “Do I have some-” 

“I’m just enjoying the view,” he said, dragging himself against her clit. It was as if a match had struck an ignition strip and lit a fire in her. Pressing her fingers into his flesh, Clarke wrapped her legs around his waist and met his rhythm. In no time they were pushing through their passion and finishing together- as she clenched around him, and he gave her all he had. 

As Bellamy stilled above her, Clarke’s heart continued to beat wildly. Clinging to him, she buried her face in his neck and held him close. For just a minute, she let herself pretend that this wasn’t just casual- that he wouldn’t move on and forget her. She imagined a life where she could have him, where maybe he loved her, too.

She stilled at the thought, her chest clenching uncomfortably around the word “too”. 

If she wanted him to love her, _too..._

Didn’t that mean- 

“Hmm?” Bellamy’s voice broke through her panic, “what did you say, Clarke?” 

“Uh, nothing-” she lied, helping to ease him off her, standing up, she adjusted her clothes as Bellamy kept his eyes on her- why did he have to do that? Look at her like he saw something no one else could. It was unnerving, really. 

“What’s wrong, Clarke?” he asked, starting to get up, “I thought we were having a good time.” 

Setting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Clarke gave him a little smile, “I’m fine, Bellamy. I just- I need to lie down.” 

The man looked as if he was about to protest but thought better of it. With a little peck on his cheek, Clarke turned and walked away. 

She needed some air- just a moment to breathe because she was starting to feel as if she was treading in dangerous waters. The reality of it was, no matter how enjoyable, an ocean was still an ocean, and Clarke was starting to drown in his. 


	8. Run, baby. Run, run, run.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> Feel free to punch Clarke.

“ Whatcha drawing?” Bellamy asked, one eye opening as he laid with his hand cradling his head. Clarke was nestled next to his side, their bodies touching in such a relaxed, comfortable way. With the way his body caught the sun, she couldn’t help but draw him. 

“You,” she said simply, moving to grab a different pencil from her collection. The pencils, however, were beyond Bellamy’s other arm, and as she moved, his arm tightened around  her, and his free hand began to brush her thigh lazily.

God, she couldn’t help the way her breath caught, and the way her thighs squeezed at such a small touch. Closing her eyes, Clarke took a deep breath, trying to calm her over-excited reflexes. To be honest Clarke had been surprised to wake up next to him this morning, after her freak out on the roof last night. Of course, in true-to-Bellamy fashion, he never spoke of it. 

“You don’t say?” he asked, likely aware of what his heavy gaze and warm hands were doing to her, “can I see it?” 

“Sure, but don’t judge me.” 

“I never would,” he said innocently, taking the notebook. Clarke immediately missed both  his hand on her and the view of his beautiful face, “whoa, this is really good. One problem though.” 

“What?” she asked, leaning forward to see it. 

“I’m not that pretty,” Bellamy said, setting the sketch pad away from them and giving her a smirk.

“Oh, no... you really are. Trust me,” Clarke laughed, rising up enough to kiss him. They exchanged sweet, chaste kisses for a minute before Bellamy pulled away and set his hand on her cheek. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his eyes studying her face intently. It was the first time a guy had ever said that to her without an agenda, and it made Clarke blush, “what, none of your other boyfriends ever told you that?” 

“Well, the one boyfriend I had only said that when he was trying to get in my pants. And well, that was only until he found out-” 

She was stupid. So, so stupid. 

“Until he found out what?” Bellamy asked, his curious eyes going into overdrive. 

“Nothing,” Clarke said, sitting up. There was hardly anywhere to move in the room, but she was ready to jet either way, “trust me, you don’t want to know.” 

As she tried to get up, Bellamy pulled her back onto the bed and into his arms, “Clarke, you don’t have to tell me... but don’t run away, okay?” 

“Okay,” she said, her voice sounding small in her own ears. 

“If you could go on vacation anywhere, where would you want to go?” Bellamy asked, looking up at the ceiling. 

As Clarke stared up at the ceiling with him and exchanged questions and answers she couldn’t help but realize that she didn’t want to be anywhere else. That, even though they were technically stuck here, she felt freer than ever. 

And it seemed when they started making out, he was slower and gentler with her. He laid her down and kissed down her neck as he spent more time teasing her, touching her, making sure she was on the edge before he even entered her. When they were both close, he continued his slow, deep thrusts, dragging his body against hers until she couldn’t tell where she ended and where he began. For the first time, Clarke kept her eyes open while she came, and found him gazing at her. Whether it was worshipful or searching, she couldn’t be sure. 

As he laid down and tucked her close to him, Clarke had to admit it was nothing like the fast fucking she had grown accustomed- no, this was much more like making love.

“Favorite color?” he asked, bouncing the ball against the wall.

“Purple, yours?” 

“Yellow, like your hair,” he said with a smirk.

“God, you’re corny,” Clarke laughed, returning to her new sketch, “Favorite band?” 

“Led Zeppelin, you?” 

“I’ve been enjoying Flume lately,” Clarke said. 

“Favorite sex position?” he asked, not taking his eye off the ball. 

“I don’t know, I haven’t tried them all,” she laughed awkwardly, “you?” 

“I really liked it when you were on top of me in the tent. I don’t know what that’s called... but damn.” 

“That cannot be your favorite,” Clarke said in disbelief. 

“and why not?” Bellamy asked, turning to her- his brow knit in confusion. 

“I just- I didn’t know what I was doing.” 

“You sure as hell fooled me,” he said, with a flirtatious smile.

“Stop teasing me,” Clarke said, tears pricking her eyes. Was he really making fun of her? 

“I’m not teasing you, why can’t that be my favorite position?” 

“Because haven’t you slept with a million girls? Don't you have better memories?” She said, her cheeks burning hot. When Clarke finally had the courage to look up at Bellamy, she was shocked to find him looking hurt, “I don’t mean it as a bad thing- it's just you’re more experienced than I am. I’m sure I’m not the best you’ve ever had.” 

“Why not?” he asked, and this time he sounded truly wounded- even a bit angry, “Maybe a real connection matters more than just fucking.” 

“Bellamy,” Clarke sighed calmly, setting her stuff aside, “I like you... a lot.” 

“I like you, too,” he admitted, looking confused as if there was some trick in what she was saying. 

“and I have been pleasantly surprised by the connection we seem to have,” she said, “you are amazing in bed, you are so sweet, funny and kind... you are incredible-" she paused looking him right in the eye, "But you don’t like me like that.”

“What?” he asked, squinting, “how can you just-” 

“Listen to me, Bell. What your feeling, it’s a product of being in close quarters for too long. It’s a product of all of the cuddling and touching and-”

“and fucking?” 

“I was going to say sex. But yes, that,” she sighed, “you didn’t like me before this, and when the quarantine is done, I’m sure you’ll lose interest, too. And that is _fine._ ” 

“So, you can just do that? Act like you don’t feel anything?” 

“No,” Clarke defended herself, “how I  _ feel _ doesn’t matter. I’m just telling you how it is. You’ll likely want to continue sowing your wild oats- or whatever it was you were doing. And that’s  _ fine. _ ” 

“This is a fucking nightmare,” the man murmured to himself, his hand raking over his face as he looked away, “so, in your opinion, I’m just some sex-robot, who can’t help himself and is incapable of a real relationship?” 

_ “I never said that,” _ Clarke croaked, her throat straining with sudden emotion, as her eyes stung with tears. How had he gotten that from what she was saying? She practically handing him a get out of jail free card... and he was going to turn this into her breaking his heart?  _What the hell was happening?_

“Yeah, you did Clarke!” he yelled, getting up, “and you know, just because I’ve had sex with a lot of girls, doesn’t mean I went looking for it. I’m not some  insatiable guy- I  _ can _ control myself. And the only reason why I took a chance with you, was because I thought you weren’t like that.” 

“Like what?” she asked, staring at the spot he had vacated. For some reason, she was unable to look at him.

“Shallow,  judgmental ,” he said, and as Clarke looked up at him and saw his steely gaze, he hit her with one more blow,  _ “heartless.” _

“Bellamy-” she said, her throat practically closing on her. Clarke wasn’t good at this. At talking through her emotions... She was so much better at running away from them,  _ “that’s not fair-” _

“Really?” he asked, his hands on his hips now, “If it’s not, prove me wrong. Tell me you feel differently... that you don’t think I’m some womanizing man-whore. You know, I could excuse your first impression of me- because at least you cared about my sister. But this, I thought you knew me by now.” 

“I- uh, I need to shower. To think,” she said, trying to hide from him. He couldn't see her like this.

Clarke struggled through her movements, as Bellamy gave her a wide birth. With tears stinging her eyes, she grabbed her shower items as fast as she could. 

“Right, that’s what I thought,” he said as if that was all he needed to hear.

As she stood under the hot spray, Clarke couldn’t help but feel incredible guilt. Maybe there was more between her and Bellamy? She already knew she liked him, that she had been attracted to him far before she admitted it to herself. Maybe, just maybe they should give it a real shot? That is if she didn’t fuck it up too much... 

_ Oh, god,  _ she thought,  _ what if she had just done irrevocable damage to their relationship? _

As the last thought bore on her mind, she sped through her shower. 

Entering the room, she set her stuff down and laid in bed. The room was completely dark- but she could see Bellamy on the floor. As the emptiness of her bed set in, she lamented her earlier stupidity, “Bellamy, I- I'm sorry. I just-” 

“Me too,” he said, without giving her a chance to explain. “just sleep, Clarke,” he groaned, shuffling around on the floor. 

Yeah, maybe they could talk in the morning. 

Clarke woke the next day to the sound of thunder clapping all too loud. Opening her eyes, she saw the window was open, and the rain was pouring onto O's bed. Much to her dismay, she didn't see Bellamy anywhere- and by all accounts, it seemed his stuff was gone. Closing the window, she turned around to find what was left of the vodka weighing down a sheet of paper on her desk. On it was just one sentence:

_ You were wrong, I did like you before.  _


	9. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Bellamy both deal with their heartbreak a bit. 
> 
> Months pass, and Bellamy gets an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for Roma being pressuring about sex...

_Bellamy Blake was an idiot._

A _total Idiot_ for falling for Clarke. 

As he packed his bag, he shook his head- how had he let this happen? Having feelings for his sister’s friend was monumentally stupid in the first place. But acting on it, that was just- well, there weren’t words for that, were there? 

_O was_ _gonna_ _hate him for this._

But hell, Octavia had thrown out the right to be angry the moment she slept with his friend and roommate, hadn't she? 

He knew from the moment Clarke yelled at him at his house party that she was special. She didn’t take anyone’s shit. And damn him, he loved being yelled at by her. At least then she was sharing who she was with him- how she really felt. 

But this Clarke- the one that couldn’t even look him the eye while she rejected him, this was a version of Clarke that he didn’t know how to handle. 

The Clarke he knew, the one he maybe even loved, was a fire. And Bellamy was a goddamn gas can. 

As his gaze moved to her on the bed, he felt his heart twist. He could hear her tossing and turning all night- until she turned on the fan, and her muffled sobs took over. It made him wonder what she had to cry about- it wasn’t like _her_ heart was broken, right? After all, she was the one who insisted that they felt nothing for each other. 

And yet, even knowing that she felt nothing more than attraction toward him, Bellamy felt so wrong leaving her here without saying goodbye. Part of him just wanted to crawl into bed with her, to hold her until she took back everything. 

But she couldn’t take it back. 

God, he thought she understood him- that she knew he wasn’t like this with other girls. But last night proved that Clarke only saw one thing, a boy toy to play with while she was bored. Still, there was a part of him that wanted, more than anything to let her know that it wasn’t shallow for him. 

_“You didn’t like me before... and won't like me after, and that’s fine.”_

Out of everything she said to him, that had been the worst. 

It was dramatic. But well, Bellamy was feeling a bit dramatic. So, he scrawled a little note and weighed it down with the bottle of Tito’s. At least now she’d know that he’d always felt something for her. 

Of course, it had to rain the same day Bellamy climbed down the side of a building and walked two miles home. For whatever reason, his car wasn’t starting. He’d have to get Miller to help him pick it up later. 

Soaked through, Bellamy let himself into the house. 

“Bellamy!” Octavia yelled from the couch, where she was laying with Lincoln. As far as Bellamy could tell they were acting innocent enough. As O studied him Bellamy shook the rain out of his hair. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Bellamy said, raising his hand to stop them from getting up, “I don’t give a shit if you guys are together.” 

“Who are you and what did you do with my brother?” O asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

Feeling defeated, Bellamy made his way to the stairs, “just don’t break each other,” he said, starting up the stairs, before calling out, "oh, and you know, you hurt her, and I’ll have to punch you, Lincoln.” 

* * *

How was it that someone could be perfectly healthy, and yet feel completely and utterly ill? Was this what it felt like to have a broken heart? Pulling the covers around her tightly, Clarke inhaled what was left of Bellamy’s scent. 

She couldn’t even think his name without feeling a stab in her chest. 

How pathetic was that? 

_“Clarke!”_ the name was accompanied by a knock, and the turn of a key, “Clarke, you better be decent-” 

With a groan, she pulled the blankets over her head fully. 

“Hey, why are you laying in the dark?” Octavia’s voice sounded gentle in her ears, yet Clarke couldn’t bring herself to come out from the blankets, “Clarke, I know you’re awake.” 

“No, I’m not,” she said, folding in on herself, maybe if she made herself as small as possible, O would leave her alone. 

“Your parents asked me to check on you,” she said, “I don’t know what the hell happened, but both you and Bellamy are acting super weird...” 

Clarke let out a groan. She wanted to ask how he was, she did. But she just couldn’t. 

“Clarke, please, talk to me...” she said, her hand coming up to rub Clarke’s back. After a moment, O got up. Clarke could hear her pulling out her suitcase from under her bed, “look, the quarantine was lifted, but there’s a safer at home mandate. I’m only here to get my stuff and tell you that you have to pack up and leave.” 

At that, Clarke poked her head out of the blankets, “I can’t.” 

“You have to,” she said, her eyes filled with sympathy, “I’d say you can stay with me at Bell’s, but I get the feeling things didn’t go too well here.” 

Turning over, Clarke hugged her pillow close, “is- is he okay?” 

“Bellamy?” O asked, studying Clarke with a keen eye. Giving in, Clarke nodded. Gritting her teeth, she tried to keep in a fresh wave of tears, “he’s acting like someone shot his puppy, but he’s... okay for the most part.” 

“That’s good,” Clarke said, taking a breath and turning around, “now, I want to be alone.” 

“Clarke,” O said softly, sitting down, “I know about your mom and stuff, I know everything has been difficult. It was tough being cooped up- and I’m sure my brother was an ass to you. Anyone would be depressed. But you need to get up, eat, take a shower. Pack.” 

“He wasn’t an ass,” Clarke breathed, turning around to look at her friend, “it was my fault-” 

_“Wait,”_ her friend asked, the wheels turning, “what _exactly_ was your fault?” 

She seemed to take Clarke’s squirming and inability to meet her gaze as a confirmation. 

“Oh, god,” she said, “seriously? You and Bellamy? I’m gonna kill him-” 

“Hold on, he didn’t tell you anything?” 

“Nothing, he was just upset, and wouldn’t talk. He briefly threatened Lincoln and then went to bed.” 

Clarke tried to push the thought out of her mind... Bellamy came home, too upset to even talk to his own sister after weeks of not seeing her. 

“Oh, ew!” O yelled, her arms in the air, as she jumped off the bed, “You guys did it on here, didn't you? Jesus, my goddamn brother-” 

“It wasn’t his fault,” Clarke countered, why did everyone blame Bellamy? She could see why he felt so sensitive about her comments, after seeing how people treat him. As the guilt piled on, she mumbled, “anyway, it’s over, I ruined it.” 

“No, you didn’t, Clarke,” her friend insisted, “Bellamy is a forgiving person. An ass sometimes, but a sweet guy. When you figure out where you are with it, just talk to him. He’ll listen.” And with a sassy smile her friend made another offer, “and if he doesn’t listen, I’ll make him.” 

As far as Clarke was concerned, Bellamy didn’t need to sit through her stammering about how she felt. Beyond that, she didn’t think she’d have the courage to be in the same room again- not after the humiliation of him just leaving. He probably hated her now- especially after she had insulted his character, completely invalidated his feelings, and shamed him for something that was none of her business, really. 

Cringing at the last thought, Clarke gave in to her guilt, “I’ll go get cleaned up,” she said, excusing herself from Octavia’s attempt at comfort, “when I get back, let’s just pretend I never- that nothing happened okay? And I mean with Bellamy, too. He doesn’t need to be reminded of what happened.” 

“I won’t do anything that you won't thank me for later,” Octavia said, her lips curling with mischief. Too tired to investigate, Clarke gave her a warning look as she left the room. 

* * *

_ Six Months Later  _

Months passed before the city reopened. It wasn’t until mid-July that Bellamy was back at his jobs. With all commercial summer events thwarted, Bellamy and his Clan of friends had to make do with park outings, picnics, grill-outs, and house parties. 

It wasn’t bad at first. In fact, Bellamy had been eager to be outside and be among friends after months of ridiculous pining and depression, it was nice to not think about anything at all. Of course, all of his friends were relieved to be out and about, too.

Then his friends started pressuring him to bring a date around... it started with little jabs, _“oh, Bellamy lost his mojo,”_ and _“I’m sure someone needs to get laid...”_

It was the comments more than anything that irritated him. He noticed that frequently, Octavia would tell others to shut up, that Bellamy’s dating life was really none of their business. Of course, she was right, but Bellamy couldn’t help but think that there was more to her admonishing... He wondered, more often than he probably should have, whether Clarke and Octavia had talked. Shortly after O had moved her stuff in with Lincoln, she mentioned that Clarke seemed upset and depressed. Bellamy merely hummed, and said “bummer,” and that he hoped she felt better. 

God, he was such a dick. 

He didn’t just hope that she felt better... he felt a bit of guilt when he thought of her. What had happened wasn’t just her fault. Maybe they could have talked through it? But then he had to get scared and run off... 

Because he’s Bellamy- that’s what he does. He gets hurt, and he lashes out. 

Half of him wanted to ask if O knew how she was; was her mom okay? Was she okay? Was she staying healthy? Was she dating anyone? Did she transfer schools because of what happened between them, or was she coming back this fall? 

Shaking away the thought, Bellamy walked into the kitchen. The group was hosting their annual house party, and Bellamy was trying to put on a happy face. Maybe if Roma hadn’t come tonight, he’d just pop in some earplugs and try to sleep. But no, Murphy was intent on making his friend suffer through as many awkward failed hookups as possible. 

“Hey lover,” a voice drawled in his ear as Roma slid her hands over his chest, making his skin crawl. He wasn’t going to get away with dodging her advances much longer. Roma was starting to get antsy, complaining about how they’ve hooked up a million times, and it shouldn’t be a big deal. 

But it was a big deal. After what happened with Clarke, after Bellamy knew how it could feel. How he could feel with another person, he was done settling for whatever the hell he was doing before. 

Of course, Bellamy had no issue with hookups and others hooking up. It was just that, suddenly, his priorities had changed in that realm. He knew what it felt like to be in love, and every time he tried to get close to another girl emotionally or physically, he was bombarded with thoughts of Clarke. More than once, he’d have to ask for a rain check, because he’d try to kiss a girl, and Clarke would pop into his head. More than once, women were dropped off at home, disappointed, saying they expected “something different.” 

As far as what he was doing with Roma... he was dodging her, avoiding her, finding every reason to not be alone with her. 

“I was thinking,” she said happily, pulling the beer he had just opened out of his hands as he turned around, “we could have a quickie in your room? Maybe you just gotta get it up, you know? Get it over with.” 

“Roma-” Bellamy sighed, exasperated, he didn’t know how to make it any clearer that he wasn’t interested, “I told you, I’m not dating right now.” 

“and I told you, that we didn’t need to date,” she said, trailing her fingers up his shirt, before running them over his jaw, “C’mon, Bellamy, we’ve done it a million times.” 

“For heaven’s sake, listen to yourself, Roma,” a familiar voice came from the other side of the drink table. Before Bellamy had the courage to turn around, she spoke again, “I’m pretty sure no means no.” 

“Oh god, it’s the fun police,” Roma said, rolling her eyes before she made her way to the hall, “keep your panties on, Griffin. He's _Out of Service_ ** _._ " **

"Wow," Clarke said, and Bellamy could hear her making a drink behind him. How could she possibly act normal? "she's a piece of-"

 _“-I don't need your help,”_ Bellamy said, cutting her off harshly.

“I know... I'm sorry,” she mumbled, sounding wounded. After several moments, Bellamy heard her breathe in. Her voice came out heavy and strained as if she was fighting tears, “this was a bad idea. I should just..." 

And without even finishing the sentence, she was gone. 


	10. Try Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, here is the last chapter! If you want me to post my deleted smut scene, let me know. I felt this was a good place to end the story, but I'm happy to post their make-up smut as a one-shot, if you all want me too!
> 
> I'm sad the story is over. Its been such a fun and rewarding experience. This story has helped me grow as a person and a writer, and I hope the important (and serious) theme I wanted to explore is evident. 
> 
> Happy reading, and thank you so much for your views, kudos, and comments. You are all wonderful people! 
> 
> Whether or not you're still in isolation, feel free to find me on Tumblr at elora-lane. You can feel free to send me a prompt or question, or just say hi!
> 
> As always thank you to Nakeycatstakebaths for beta'ing and enjoying her gift! Thank you to Burninghoneyatdusk, star_sky_earth, and Taylor-Morley for helping me with general bellarke ideas, inspiration, and encouragement throughout the process. You all rock!

Clarke couldn’t breathe. 

This had been a horrible, horrible mistake. 

And she was going to _throttle_ Octavia. 

Making it to the porch, she grasped the railing. What the hell had happened? Octavia said that Bellamy was going to be at work, she promised that he wouldn’t be here. And even at that, she promised that they’d have a girl's night, just the two of them. They were supposed to leave in ten minutes, which easily had become an hour. By the time Clarke came back downstairs; the house was packed with people. 

Of course, _of-fucking-course,_ she had to walk in on Bellamy trying to reject Roma. Remembering what he had said to her about girls coming onto him, Clarke felt protective- angry at Roma, even. She couldn’t help but say something. 

But Bellamy didn’t want her there, and he didn’t want her protection, that much was clear. 

Clarke had months to get over him. She had months to analyze and rationalize all that had happened between them. But seeing him, hearing his harsh words directed at her, it brought back all the pain and lingering desire she had. 

She’d wanted to apologize for months; she’d wanted to tell him she loved him and explain why she acted the way she did. But it was clear that she was the only one who wanted that. As the door opened, Clarke shook her head. 

Turning around, Clarke’s gaze was met with apologetic brown eyes, “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m sorry, Clarke.” 

“Octavia told me you’d be working,” she said, looking back at the street. As if summoned, her heart was beating dangerously fast, and her palms were sweaty, “I’m sorry I ambushed you.” 

“Ambushed?” Bellamy laughed, standing next to her. He wasn’t even that close, and she could feel the warmth coming from him, “you didn’t ambush me, I was just surprised, that’s all. And it was no reason to be rude to you. I owe you an apology.” 

Clarke couldn’t speak. She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Bellamy came out here to apologize to her. Letting out shaky breath, she tried to be brave, “Bellamy, I'm sorry for everything. Maybe some time we could talk?” When he didn’t respond, she lost her nerve, “never mind. Tell O I don’t feel like going out now.” 

Sparing him one last glance, she felt a little lost as his eyes seemed to search hers. She couldn’t help but wonder if he still felt anything for her. 

“Okay,” he said, nodding before he went back inside. 

Cheeks burning in embarrassment, Clarke shook her head. What else had she expected? 

As she made her way down the front steps, a figure caught up with her, taking her by surprise, “My car or yours?” Bellamy asked, pulling on his jacket as if it was nothing. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You asked if we could talk?” he said, looking confused. When Clarke nodded, he smiled, “and well, I don’t really want to be here. So, where to?” 

* * *

They ended up at the beach, sitting in the back of Bellamy’s SUV, Clarke’s legs dangling over the hatch, as they watched the waves crash over the rocks. As Clarke ate her ice cream, Bellamy couldn’t help but stare at her. He couldn’t believe it; she was here... and wanted to talk to him. About _everything_. 

“What?” she asked, a shy smile crossing her lips. As the wind blew strands of hair over her face, “did I get ice cream on my face?” she asked cleaning up the nothingness that was there. 

“No,” Bellamy said, taking her wild strands and tucking them behind her ear, “I was just getting lost in thought.” 

“Ah,” Clarke said, her gaze drifting back to the ocean, “speaking of thoughts. I’ve been thinking a lot. And Bellamy, I owe you an apology.” 

So, they were doing this now.

Well, it was as good a time as any. 

“I was rude and insensitive to you,” she continued, “but I want to explain something because what you heard isn’t how I felt.” 

Bellamy stared at her as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Taking a breath, she set aside the empty ice cream container and stared back at him. 

“What do you mean?” His voice came out more raw than intended, and he was sure his eyes were straining from the tears he was holding back. Clarke had this way of making him open up, and right now he was fighting all the feelings that emerged whenever he thought of what had occurred between them in that dorm room.

“I never meant to shame you, or to make you feel bad about your sexual experiences,” she said, her gaze determined, “Bellamy, I never thought you couldn’t have a relationship. I assumed you didn’t want one. I thought I was letting you off the hook.” 

“I don’t understand, did I ever seem like I wanted that?” he asked, trying to sift through his memories of their time together. 

“In retrospect, no. But I wasn’t paying attention to that,” she said, her eyes dropping from his and to his lips briefly. Biting her lip, she seemed to nod to herself, as if mustering up the courage to continue, “I don’t know if you are aware of this. But there’s this lie that culture tells women. I’ve seen it in magazines, hell even my own friends said the same thing in high school. You don’t fall for your first. You don’t fall in love, you don’t get attached, and you _definitely_ don’t get clingy. Because it’s not cool, and it makes a girl look desperate.” 

Bellamy felt his stomach drop. He knew about the ridiculous beauty and body standards women had for themselves- but there were standards for human interaction? No wonder Clarke reacted to his emotional outburst the way she did. Bellamy knew how hard it was to sift through lies and the truth, especially when you were alone. 

Add to that the emotional and hormonal side of sex, which was all new to her. Of course, she didn’t know how to properly communicate her feelings. God, how had he missed it? 

“So, you’re saying that you were a virgin when we...?” 

“Yeah, Bellamy, that’s what I’m saying,” Clarke’s nodded, unafraid. 

Of course, Bellamy never believed in the archaic ideas regarding virginity- it always had an air of ownership and robbing a woman of something “precious” that she could never get back. He wasn’t about that. Sex was supposed to be fun, enjoyable, and with the right person, intimate. But there was something to be said for a girl enjoying her first time. And of course, he wanted that for Clarke more than anyone. 

So, he had to make sure it had been good, “was it- I mean, did you...” 

_Great_ , he’d lost the ability to speak. 

“What?” Clarke said, a little smile quirking on her lips, as she watched him struggle, “spit it out, Bell.” 

“Was it... good?” he asked. To his knowledge, he’d never been someone’s first, and suddenly it mattered a great deal to him that she enjoyed it, “were you, you know... happy... satisfied?” 

“Are you asking for a Yelp review?” she laughed, eyebrows raised in good humor, “Because, I can give you one: Five stars. Sweet and charming. Excellent view and fantastic service.” and after a few moments she added, “would visit regularly.” 

With cheeks burning and a little chuckle, Bellamy shook his head. Was she trying to tell him that she wanted to try again, or was she just being cute? Turning to her, he smiled, “Clarke, if I had known, I would have made it special for you.” 

Much to his surprise a smaller hand slipped into his. When her eyes met his, he felt his chest fill with soft and warm adoration, “it _was_ special,” she said, squeezing his hand, “every time.” 

Heat surged through his body, he couldn’t control how his heart rate kicked up, and hope blossomed. 

“I missed you,” he said, the words coming out on their own, “I haven’t been the same since we were together.” 

Together was probably a generous word, but that week-long relationship they had affected him more than any other relationship, fling or otherwise, ever could have. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” she offered, her ocean eyes shining bright as she smiled at him, “I’m sorry for how I hurt you, but I-” 

“Stop apologizing, Clarke. I forgive you,” he said, “and I get it. Love and sex are confusing. There’s a lot of emotions that get mixed in... and we were in a situation that was unique. But you know, those things that scared you, those are lies that society tells you, right? If we want to, we can make it work.” 

“I know that,” Clarke nodded, “I know now that when you love someone, you make your own rules. And honestly, I would have talked to you sooner, but I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me.” 

“It’s all in the timing,” he offered. 

“Well, thank you for coming back outside,” Clarke said, the wind whipping through her locks some more, as she stared out at the ocean. Looking at her like this, so serene and unfettered, he couldn’t imagine not giving her the time of day. 

“Of course,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it, “I’m sorry for not staying with you. God, we missed out on the whole summer.” 

“To be fair, I did have to go home,” Clarke said, moving closer to him, her head falling on his shoulder, “and we have plenty of time to do whatever we want next summer...” 

“Yeah?” Bellamy asked, his free hand sliding up her back, over the adorable blue dress she was wearing, and settling on the nape of her neck. As he moved his fingers in a soothing motion, she dissolved under him, her body loosening before she wrapped her arms around his waist. 

“Mhmm,” she said pressing a kiss on his neck, and then his jaw, before she pulled back, “we can also do whatever we want until then, too.” 

Looking down at her, Bellamy couldn’t help but smile as he searched her gaze, “and what do you want, Clarke?” 

“You,” she said, “if you’ll have me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think! I hope you all are staying safe during this trying time!
> 
> Hey guys I changed my url from ktanansi  
> I'm now elora-lane on Tumblr, too. 💜


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